


Promised

by fearlessly



Series: Anywhere You Want to Take Me [12]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Ass Play, BDSM, Begging, Biting, Blangst, Blink and you’ll miss it breath play, Blink and you’ll miss it mention of crying kink, Bondage, Bruising, But He Allows It, Butt Plugs, Cock Cages, Come Swallowing, Crying, Delayed Aftercare, Dildos, Dirty Talk, Doctor Blaine Anderson, Dom Kurt, Dom/sub, Edging, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Facials, Failed Attempt at Roleplaying, Fluff, Forced Masturbation, Forced Orgasm, Gags, Hand Feeding, Husbands, Impact Play, Kurt Doesn't Like It Much, Kurt Loves Blaine's Ass, Latex, Lectures, Light CBT, Love, M/M, Masturbation, Mention of Eating Disorders, Mentions of homophobia, Nipple Play, Obedience, Objectification, Or successful however you want to look at it, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Denial, Our Dr. Anderson Loves To Lecture, Public Hand Jobs, Public Masturbation, Romance, Rules, Sensory Deprivation, Shibari, Sickfic, Spanking, Sub Blaine, Suspension, Tiptoe Training, Vibrators, and he's not sorry, klaine advent 2018, talk of punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-02 17:36:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 51,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17268461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fearlessly/pseuds/fearlessly
Summary: A window into Kurt's and Blaine's D/s relationship as they celebrate the holiday season.





	1. Athlete

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first advent. Even though it meant I'd be posting late, I took my time in writing and editing this piece. This is the twelfth installment of Anywhere You Want To Take Me, a series close to my heart. I wanted to try to do the advent words justice, while still remaining true to the verse. 
> 
> Each chapter/word can be read standalone, however some are interconnected and will make better sense if read together; it's up to you. For an enhanced experience, and if you haven't already done so, you may want to read the series from the beginning.
> 
> If you may be triggered by D/s or BDSM themes please mind the tags and TAKE THE TIME TO READ THE SERIES NOTES [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/series/267772). Also be aware that I don't tag every single aspect, because I don't like spoilers. If you have any concerns, please message me privately on Tumblr (fearlesslysgleefics or theygettogetherintheend).
> 
> Thank you to the creators and volunteers of this year's Klaine Advent. With the fandom not being as big as it once was, your work and participation are so important and so appreciated. Kudos to you.
> 
> Finally, [Aj4668](http://archiveofourown.org/users/aj4668) ... thank you so much for helping me with plot ideas and for reviewing some chapters. If it weren't for you, this advent may have never been finished.

 

Blaine remembers the precise moment Kurt got the idea; and now, while he heaves the cold late-autumn air into his lungs and sweat is quickly cooled on his skin by the rushing wind, Blaine uses that memory to propel himself harder and faster to a place with, seemingly, no end in sight. 

“You don’t think I like sports?” Kurt had asked, lowering his issue of Vogue. “You don’t think I admire and appreciate athletes?” Kurt’s eyebrow had lifted purposefully, and the look he had given Blaine from across the couch, even with Burt sitting between them, had been one that simultaneously made the grin on Blaine’s face fall and warm, nervous energy bloom in his stomach. 

“Bud, the only sport you’ve ever been interested in is racing through the mall on Black Friday,” Burt had commented with a grin plastered on his face, and oblivious to the pointed look Blaine was receiving. “Now pay up, Anderson”. 

It was supposed to be a harmless bet between himself and his father-in-law. Kurt hadn’t taken it that way, though and, with his comment, Burt had made the abstract thoughts floating around in Kurt’s head materialize into a concrete idea, Blaine was sure of that. 

Blaine rounds the corner and runs towards the bleachers where Kurt is sitting. He knows now that the bet didn’t hurt or anger Kurt as much as he had originally let on. Kurt’s good humour about the whole thing doesn’t mean that he isn’t going to take advantage of the situation and make his sub pay for his little game. 

Blaine wonders when Kurt will take mercy on him. Kurt had been generous in giving him adequate clothing for his jaunt outdoors in the New York weather. But, it’s not the lack of clothes (or abundance of them) that is the issue. The problem is that, while Blaine has been running around the track for so long he’s lost count of laps, his nipples have been snugly clamped beneath his t-shirt, sweater, and windbreaker. Before they had set out for the track a few blocks from their house, Kurt had peaked his nipples diligently. Ice cubes, a warm tongue, agile fingers, and unrelenting teeth were used to make Blaine’s nipples erect and ready for the unforgiving clamps. 

To make matters worse, every time Blaine laps Kurt, who is sitting on the bleachers with warm tea and his soft cashmere scarf wrapped around him, Kurt claps and hoots, cheering him on and making it abundantly clear that he does in fact like sports, or at least one athlete in particular. 

“Go, Blaine!” Kurt yells as he stands and claps. “You can do it, just a few more laps to go.” 

Blaine is in agony. His nipples ache straight down to his stomach and out through his cock, his lungs hurt from sucking in cold air and his muscles burn as they exert themselves past their usual limit. Blaine is a runner, which normally would work to his advantage, but Kurt has taken that advantage, turned it around, and pushed Blaine harder than Blaine has ever pushed himself. 

Blaine wants to stop, but he doesn’t. He wants to quit, but he can’t. He wants to safe word and to beg for Kurt’s forgiveness, but he won’t. The consequences of that would be far worse. Although Kurt would absolutely respect his safe word, Blaine would be so disappointed in himself. That alone would be penance enough. So Blaine pushes on. He rounds another corner and wills his mind and his body to run – for Kurt, because Kurt likes sports and appreciates athletes. 

A few laps later, when Blaine is positive he can’t possibly run another lap, he looks up to see Kurt waiting for him on the track. When he sprints passed Kurt he crosses an imaginary finish line and Kurt blows his whistle, signaling for Blaine to stop. 

Blaine stops immediately and bends over at the waist, pressing his hands into his knees as he spurts out and inhales deeply, trying to regain oxygen and simply stay on his feet.  As soon as Kurt’s gloved hand presses on the small of his back, Blaine feels his muscles begin to shake. 

“You’re ok, pet,” Kurt encourages. “You may kneel.” 

Luckily, the cold weather has kept most people indoors; the abandoned track gives them a sense of privacy – although Blaine is in no state to notice or care at the moment. Once he is situated on his knees with both hands on his lap, Blaine begins to feel a little better. 

“You’re such a good boy,” Kurt praises as he kneels in front of Blaine and removes his gloves. His hands slide efficiently beneath Blaine’s clothing and up his sweaty torso, finding the clamps. He carefully removes them right there and then and slips them into the pocket of his jacket. 

“Oh God,” Blaine moans. 

“I know. Let’s just take a minute, pet. You did well and I am so proud of you. Here,” Kurt offers up the water bottle he brought especially for Blaine. Blaine takes a generous sip and then another. It helps soothe his wind-parched throat, but he is exhausted right down to his bones. Soon after, Kurt gets to his feet. “Let’s get you home, dear boy. You can have some tea, a snack, and a warm bath.” 

“That sounds wonderful, Sir. Thank you.” 

Blaine is helped up. Kurt takes Blaine’s arm and slips it through his own as they start walking towards home. “Don’t thank me yet, sweetheart. I’m not done cheering on my favourite athlete. I know track and field isn’t the only sport you excel in.”

 

+

 

A couple hours later, after Blaine has been watered, fed, and bathed, he finds himself in their bedroom. He’s on his hands and knees on their new plush area rug completely nude except for the tennis ball gag that is secured into his mouth. Kurt is standing in front of him but Blaine, in the position he’s in and with his down cast eyes, can only see Kurt’s white sneakers, white socks, and bare shins. He can only imagine what the rest of Kurt’s outfit looks like. If he were to gaze up, he would see Kurt in short, tight, white shorts and a white fitted polo shirt. 

“Isn’t it Wimbledon where they wear all white?” Kurt asks, as he bends down to place Blaine’s safety ball beside his hand. 

Blaine can only answer with a muffled yes. 

“White isn’t usually my colour, but I am willing to make an exception for this particular match. I only want the best for my boy,” Kurt says with delight in his voice. “Besides, one of us had to dress the part,” he snickers and slides a fingertip along Blaine’s bare shoulder. 

“You look so good like this, pet,” Kurt coos, circling him. “Your body is wonderfully toned from the run earlier, and your mouth is wide open and stuffed, just how I like it.” 

Blaine’s cock twitches. 

Kurt’s sneakers leave Blaine’s sight when he moves to the other side of the room.  Blaine can hear him shuffling around and makes a pretty good guess at what Kurt is looking for. The thought ignites a fire deep in his belly. 

“You know what I like the most about tennis?” Kurt asks. 

Blaine groans through his gag. 

“The way the players grunt when they hit the ball especially hard.” 

Blaine’s blood runs cold, but warms quickly again when he feels the nylon strings press gently against his bare bottom. 

“I think you’d be an excellent tennis player, Blaine,” Kurt says. “I know for sure that your grunts alone would make you the number one seed.” 

Blaine whimpers through the yellow ball in his mouth. He can already feel the saliva gathering at the corners of his lips, and he knows that soon it will dribble down his chin and to the floor either by gravity or by impact. 

“I think I want to put your stamina and grunting to the test; what do you think, pet?” 

Before Blaine can form an answer, the tennis racket lands on his ass, forcing an answer out of him. “Gughh!” 

“That’s just the warm up, sweetheart.  Let’s see just how loud you can get for me.” 

One would think that a tennis racket couldn’t do much harm. It’s mostly square holes, after all. But when Blaine thinks about it, it’s not so much the racket that is the variable. It’s the force and technique behind the swing. And Blaine knows from ample past experience that Kurt’s swing is precise and powerful. 

“One thing I didn’t even think about,” Kurt pants after assaulting Blaine’s ass with the nylon strings, “is how absolutely divine your ass looks with this pattern on it. I wish you could see it, pet.” 

Kurt continues at a fast pace. Each swing lands perfectly on Blaine’s ass, first one cheek then the other. Each blow makes Blaine grunt louder and breathe harder. Each swing drives his body forward, making him rock on all fours. With each impact saliva drips from the soaked tennis ball, and precome from his raging cock. 

“God, you’re gorgeous like this,” Kurt chants. “You’re such a good pet, such an exceptional athlete.” 

“Gugh. Hmgmm. Gragh.” 

“That’s it, let me hear you.” 

It goes on for a while - Kurt’s expert assault and encouraging words. Blaine takes it all - the physical pain, the burning desire, the freedom that Kurt’s words give him, and the knowledge that he is being good, and that Kurt loves him this way, and every way. 

Kurt stops only when Blaine’s bottom is bright red and decorated with a criss-crossing square pattern, and small bruises start appearing on the apples of his cheeks. Blaine’s sobs, although muffled, are loud and desperate. 

“I love you, pet.” Kurt praises. “You took the racket so well. I think I’ll keep it so that I can use it again, whenever you get the notion that it’s acceptable to make me a pawn in your betting game with my father.” 

Blaine whimpers. 

“What is it, pet? Have you had enough?” Kurt places down the racket and kneels at Blaine’s side. His hand glides gently along Blaine’s sweaty flank, goosebumps blossoming in its wake. 

Although Blaine’s ass is burning, and his jaw is aching around the tennis ball, the touch soothes him. Blaine moans through the gag, trying to relay his remorse as well as his gratitude. 

“That’s the thing, sweetheart. You may have had enough, but I haven’t. I’m the spectator in this game. The athlete would be nothing without its spectators, hmm? Without people there to cheer them on, the game wouldn’t exist.” 

Kurt reaches to gently remove the gag. Blaine breathes deeply once it’s off. He closes his jaw and moves it from side to side, trying to work out the stretch. “Thank you, Sir.” 

“Hmm, you’re not finished yet,” Kurt informs him. 

Blaine whines softly. His whole body aches from the run as well as the spanking. His nipples still throb, his jaw hurts, and yet his cock is achingly hard and standing at attention. Blaine isn’t sure he’ll be able to take another bout of whatever Kurt has planned. 

Kurt sits on the floor and scoots back so that he’s leaned against the bed.  Blaine notices that his eyes are blown wide open and his lips are wet. It’s a sure sign that his husband is turned on. And when Kurt is turned on, there is no telling when Blaine’s night will end … most times, it’s not until morning. 

But then Kurt’s head tilts to the side and his smile lights up his face. “Kneel up for me, pet. I want to watch you masturbate. Let’s call it a one-sided tug-o-war.” 

Blaine can’t help but blurt out laughter, although it’s soon cut off when Kurt snaps his fingers, signalling for him to start. Blaine takes himself in hand and begins to stroke. Aside from the precome beading at his tip, it’s dry, but Blaine is unrelenting as he jerks off under his dominant’s command, and solely for his pleasure. 

Kurt watches every single stoke, and Blaine becomes drunk beneath Kurt’s observant gaze. Blaine desperately needs to come, but his deep-rooted obedience stops him. He is entertaining Kurt, putting on a show for him. Blaine is the only one who can keep Kurt’s attention for so long. Only Blaine puts that look on Kurt’s face and that stutter in his breath. And now, Blaine knows that only he can make Kurt invested in sport. Kurt is his number one fan. 

About half an hour later, once Blaine is a babbling, begging, and sweaty mess, Kurt kindly squirts lube onto Blaine’s bulging head. About five minutes after that, Kurt commands him to come. Blaine does, shooting his load across the room with a loud shout as his body convulses and shakes from the intense release. 

Later, after Blaine was made to clean up his mess with his tongue and Kurt has applied soothing balm to Blaine’s bottom and tucked them both into bed, Blaine whispers, “I’m sorry for underestimating your love for sports, Sir.” 

“Oh, Blaine, we both know I hate sports.” 

Blaine grins. “Well, yes.” 

“But I love you.” 

“I love you too, Sir.” 

“Although, I think I could take a liking to tennis.” 

Blaine swallows and hugs Kurt tighter. “Me, too.”

 


	2. Cinnamon

 

Kurt flops back into his mountain of pillows after having yet another coughing fit and groans. He drapes his arm across his eyes to block out the light and makes a mental note, not for the first time, to have words with his unthoughtful co-worker. 

Every year Kurt gets sick after Thanksgiving, no matter how much vitamin c he consumes or how many times he washes his hands. It’s usually only a cold but, even so, Kurt hates the stuffy head, runny nose, and wet cough he gets during the time he should be gearing up preparations for the holiday season. This year, when he didn’t get sick after a full day of eating and watching movies, and then another full day of Black Friday shopping, he cheered silently and considered himself lucky. About a week after he returned to work, however, that idiot Marty showed up at the studio coughing and hacking all over everything and Kurt’s health went to hell in a hand-basket. 

Kurt quickly grabs another tissue as he starts to cough again, his body lifting off the pillows with every spasm. When he’s finished, he feels exhausted and miserable and all he wants is to curl up under the blanket and have Blaine sing him to sleep - which reminds him, Blaine still isn’t home from the store. Blaine left him all alone. Blaine abandoned him for cinnamon. 

Of all things and of all times, Blaine decided that they need cinnamon right now. Blaine had explained why, but at the time Kurt was being pouty and felt so much pressure in his chest, that he barely paid attention. 

Kurt didn’t really remember anything that had happened that day at all, except that Blaine gave him an examination at home that morning, and then insisted they go to his clinic to get further tests done. Blaine’s diagnosis had been correct. Kurt has bronchitis. Kurt is going to kill Marty. 

“Kurt, I’m back,” Blaine calls from the front door. Kurt can hear him unzipping his coat and fumbling out of his shoes. “I got the cinnamon.” 

Kurt slumps under the blanket and rolls his eyes with a huff. 

“Honey? How are you feeling?” Blaine asks as he peers into the room. 

“Murmph!” Kurt coughs. 

“I bet. It’s time to take your meds again. I’ll be right back.” 

Kurt closes his eyes, relieved that Blaine is back. When he’s sick all he wants is his husband, and Blaine is so good at taking care of him. Kurt’s mind is drifting and he doesn’t have the brain power to think about all the ways that Blaine takes care of him. Right now the only way that matters is that Blaine is here to get his medicine and soothe him, and be here in case his illness worsens. Blaine is a doctor, after all. 

Kurt snuffles awake to the aroma of cinnamon. Despite his illness, the scent is enticing. The last thing he remembers is Blaine going to get his meds, but as he fell asleep, Blaine must’ve gotten distracted with cinnamon again. 

Kurt whines, “Blaine…” before he succumbs to another coughing fit. 

“I’m coming, honey,” Blaine answers from the kitchen. 

A minute later Kurt is shaken awake by Blaine’s gentle hands. “I have your medication and I made you a cup of chai tea with honey and cinnamon.” 

“Chai?” Kurt asks. “With honey and cinnamon? I’m sick, Blaine.” 

“Mhmm. It is good for you. It will help.” 

Kurt would laugh, but he doesn’t because he knows that would only induce another coughing fit again. Instead he says, “Dr. Anderson-Hummel, you don’t believe in naturopathy.” 

“It’s not that I don’t believe in it. I just have more faith in modern medicine. But there is no harm in using natural ingredients in conjunction with medicine.” 

Kurt gives him a skeptical grin. 

“Come on honey, the cinnamon may help reduce the swelling in your bronchial tubes.” Blaine coaxes, as he sets the tea and pills down on the table and helps Kurt sit up. 

“It’s like I don’t even know you, pet. You’ve never offered me naturopathy before. And I know you’ve not used it yourself.” 

Blaine looks down with a shy smile and rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I may not put that much value in naturopathy, but I do believe in a parent’s comfort.” 

Kurt gives him a confused look. 

“I might have called your father to let him know that you’re sick.” 

“Blaine!” 

“I know,” Blaine holds up his hands. “You can punish me later if you wish, but I promised Burt a long time ago that I wouldn’t keep anything concerning your health from him.” 

Kurt wants to tell Blaine that he would never punish him for keeping a promise, especially if that promise is to his dad, but he can’t speak because he’s coughing again. 

The fit lasts longer than the others. When he’s finished, Blaine gives Kurt the meds and a glass of water.  After Kurt swallows, Blaine passes the mug of cinnamon chai. 

“Burt told me that you had bronchitis before.” 

“No, I have not,” Kurt says stubbornly. 

“You have. You were four years old.” 

“Oh,” Kurt murmurs then takes a sip of the tea. It instantly warms his insides and he can’t help but moan, despite himself. 

“He said that your mom believed that cinnamon helped reduce swelling so she gave you cinnamon tea, and that you liked it so much you asked for it constantly, even after you got better.” 

Kurt stares from behind his mug. 

“Honey?” Blaine says, and places his hand on Kurt’s bicep. 

“I remember.” 

“You do?” 

“I had forgotten, but now that you’re telling me, I remember that I used to ask her for cinnamon tea every time I got the sniffles. She would give me some, of course, and I always felt better. It was like my mom’s version of chicken soup.” Kurt looks at Blaine with wide eyes. “I can’t believe I had forgotten.” 

“I’m glad your dad told me the story then,” Blaine says. “That’s why I went to get the cinnamon. I knew that if it’s something your mom gave you it would make you feel better. Whether it actually reduces swelling or not is irrelevant.” 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Kurt says as he squeezes Blaine’s hand. 

“Well for one, you wouldn’t have this delicious chai tea to drink,” Blaine encourages. 

“And for two, I’d have no one to spank,” Kurt returns with a grin. 

Blaine blushes and laughs. “Hey, I thought you were sick. The cinnamon must certainly be working, Sir.” 

“I think it is, pet,” Kurt says and winks at him, “Or maybe it’s the company.” 

“Maybe so,” Blaine whispers as he accepts Kurt’s kiss to his cheek, “Past and present.” 

Thanks to the wonderful memory of his mother, and to his thoughtful husband (and not to mention, doctor), Kurt is definitely on the mend.

 


	3. Candle

 

Blaine stands back with his hands on his hips to admire his and Kurt’s handiwork. He had strung the red and green Christmas lights around the door and hung up the colourful new wreath, but those tasks are elementary compared to what Kurt has done. It’s his husband’s artistry that has made the door to their home look festive and beautiful. 

Blaine is awestruck when he thinks about how many hours Kurt put into creating “The Warbler Wreath”. Kurt designed and arranged the lavish decoration using fresh cedar branches and holly and mistletoe leaves. He adorned it with varying sizes of wicker balls, which he had hand weaved and painted, and curled golden ribbon. He finished the piece off with an assortment of tiny decorative birds, which he created by hot gluing vibrant crafting feathers onto little papier mache bodies. 

Blaine shakes his head and smiles. Kurt is the most talented man in the world. He heads inside to find that Kurt has lighted the fireplace. He spots his husband putting the last of his mother’s blown-glass ornaments onto the tree. All that’s left now is the shimmering, silver star at the top. 

“The tree looks beautiful, honey,” Blaine comments. 

“It does, doesn’t it? I knew having all glass ornaments this year would be expensive, and a little dangerous, but I think it’s paid off.” 

“Absolutely,” Blaine says as he hands the star to Kurt. 

Once Kurt has placed the star atop the tree and descended the step stool, Blaine wraps his arms around him and kisses his neck. “I love your décor this year, honey. From the tree, to the lights, to the wreath, it all looks wonderful!” 

“The décor is not just mine, sweetheart, it’s ours.” 

Blaine smiles and goes in for another kiss hoping that, if he plays his cards right, they will soon be lying beside their Christmas tree making love… 

“Oh!” Kurt blurts, before Blaine’s lips get too close. “I almost forgot. I went to the farmers’ market yesterday when you were at work and found this cute little booth that sells artisan beeswax candles. Blaine, they smell so good, I just couldn’t help myself. I picked up about a dozen of them. I think they’ll look great on our coffee table. I’ll go get them.” 

Blaine whimpers when Kurt disentangles himself from his arms and bee-lines it to wherever it is that he keeps all his gems hidden. While Kurt retrieves the candles, Blaine busies himself with choosing his favourite holiday playlist, cleaning up the empty boxes, and clearing off the coffee table in preparation for Kurt’s centerpiece 

“Blaine?” Kurt calls from down the hall. “Have you seen the candle holders?” 

Blaine had no idea they even own candle holders. “No, I haven’t. Need help looking?” 

“I’ve looked everywhere they could be,” Kurt huffs out as he returns carrying an assortment of honeycomb coloured candles. They’re not in the kitchen or the hallway storage.” 

“Are you sure they’re not with the vases underneath the cutlery drawer?” 

“I looked there.” 

“What about in the bathroom? Didn’t you use them with your last bubble bath?” 

“Those are the bathroom candle holders, Blaine, not the decorative ones.” 

Blaine is at a loss; the only thing he can do is what he always does – offer to fix the problem. “I can go out tomorrow morning to buy new ones, honey.” 

“I suppose so,” Kurt says sullenly, as he places the candles straight onto the table. “I’ll just have to wait to light them.” 

Blaine frowns as he watches Kurt flop down onto the couch. He knows that Kurt had his heart set on displaying his new candles tonight. He wants to see their home finished and ready for the holidays. They have the fire, the music, the tree, the wreath, and the lights; the candles would be the perfect finishing touch. 

Blaine wants to kiss the pout off of Kurt’s face, but instead he approaches slowly and kneels down by Kurt’s spot on the couch. He places his hand on Kurt’s thigh and caresses gently, coaxing his attention away from the unlighted candles on the table. “Sir, I have an idea.” 

“Hmm,” Kurt murmurs, distractedly. 

“Please, Sir, may I express what I have in mind?” 

Kurt seems to come back to the present and sits up, taking Blaine’s hand. “Of course, pet.” 

“I know we agreed that we’d get new holders tomorrow, and we will, but I know that you’re disappointed that you can’t light them tonight.” 

“It’s ok, pet,” Kurt says. “The candles can wait.” 

“That’s the thing,” Blaine pauses, squeezing Kurt’s hand. “I’m not sure I can wait. I can never wait to see you happy and to see a smile on your face.” 

“Oh, sweetheart…” 

“And, if I can do anything to help put that smile there, then I’m going to do it; you know that, Sir.” 

“Yes of course I do but, Blaine, it’s not necessary to go out into the cold night just to find some holders for me. Tomorrow morning will be fine.” 

“No, that’s not what I was thinking.” 

Kurt moves closer and lifts a brow. “Oh? Then what is it, pet?” 

“Well…” Blaine lowers his gaze and swallows. “It has been a few weeks… long weeks… since you’ve objectified me, Sir.” 

Kurt places a finger beneath Blaine’s chin and lifts his head until their gazes lock together. “Tell me.” 

“I would really love it, Sir, if you’d allow me to be the candles’ holder.” 

Kurt’s smile spreads across his face and reaches his eyes. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” 

Blaine blushes. “I love you, too, Sir.” 

“Are you sure you want this, pet? Tonight? Aren’t you tired from all the decorating we’ve done today?” 

“I’m never too tired to do something that will make you happy, Sir. Besides, you know this will relax me. It allows me to go into my own headspace.” 

Kurt places both his hands on Blaine’s face and lifts him up so that he can reach him for a kiss. He pecks softly and murmurs against his lips, “You are so good to me, sweetheart.” 

Blaine whimpers and presses closer for more kisses. 

Kurt indulges him for a moment then says, “Go use the bathroom, take off your clothes, and present yourself to me. You have three minutes.”

 

+

 

Three minutes later, Blaine is kneeling by the coffee table completely nude with his head bowed and his hands clasped together at the small of his back. He waits for Kurt, knowing that Kurt is preparing himself mentally, too. Blaine uses this time to clear his mind and get into the right headspace. Physically, he’s about to convert his body into an inanimate object; mentally, he needs to make that transition, too. Objects don’t think; they don’t feel; they don’t react. 

As the blindfold is finally wrapped around Blaine’s eyes, and the noise-cancelling headphones are placed on his ears, Blaine is reminded that objects don’t see and don’t hear, either. Kurt helps him up and situates him on his back on the table, then places the safety ball into his hand and lets his arm rest at his side. Even when Blaine is being objectified, has the option of safe wording if he needs to. 

When Blaine feels the ball, he squeezes it. It grounds him. He takes a couple of deep breaths and tries to relax his muscles. This part is always difficult for Blaine. He is so turned on by the thought of transforming into anything his dominant needs, that it’s impossible for him to stop the constant blood flow to his cock. Blaine loves being this for Kurt, being used entirely for Kurt’s benefit and pleasure. But as turned on as he is, he must will his body to behave. It should be malleable so that Kurt can use him in whatever way he sees fit. By the time Blaine has fully relaxed, his cock is semi-hard and resting along his oblique muscle. 

He doesn’t know how much time passes before Kurt touches him, but it’s enough time for Blaine to sink slowly into sub space. And the time that has passed is irrelevant. Blaine is an object; its only purpose is to hold candles, nothing more. As Blaine lets all thoughts float out of his mind, and withdraws so that he smells, senses, and feels as little as possible, everything turns dark. Then he lets himself fall. 

The first thing Kurt does to his new candle holder is to bind its thighs, knees, and ankles tight against each other. He needs the space between them to be sturdy so that the candles will stay upright. He wouldn’t want for them to fall and burn the precious holder. He uses black silk rope to wrap the legs of the holder together and knots the ends tightly until the divide between them is taut. 

Next, Kurt maneuvers the holder so that its free hand rests by its hip with the palm up. Kurt uses his hand to test the holder’s sturdiness, rubbing its stomach, pressing its chest, and stoking its plump cock. When he is satisfied with the holder’s attributes, Kurt collects his candles and begins to arrange them. 

He hums softly along to the music as he places the first candle into the holder. It is the shape of a squished ball and fits perfectly into its palm. Kurt then wedges four long tapered candles into the dip between its legs - one just above its ankle bones, one between its shins, one above the knee, and the last beneath its full round balls. The biggest and heaviest candle is placed on the holder’s stomach. The candle is a wide, short pillar and large enough to hold three wicks. The next two candles need some help staying put, so Kurt takes the last tapered candle and lights it. He waits a little while until melted wax collects at the tip, and then tilts it so that the droplets fall directly onto the holder’s nipples in turn. Once they’re generously coated, Kurt presses a votive candle to each one, the melted wax helping them stay upright on the holder’s muscular chest. The placement of the final candle is Kurt’s favourite. He presses down on the holder’s chin until its mouth opens slightly and pushes the lighted tapered candle into the hole and presses the mouth closed around it to hold it in place. 

Kurt takes his time lighting the other ten wicks meticulously. Once he’s done, Kurt sits back with a gleeful smile. He takes a moment to look around the apartment from where he’s sitting. The fire has dwindled down to sauntering burnt orange hues, just hot enough to take the chill out of the air. The Christmas lights that Blaine had strung up are twinkling, and the tree is perfectly decorated. He closes his eyes and sways gently to the music while his nostrils are filled with the aroma of fresh beeswax. 

When Kurt opens his eyes again, he looks down to see the source of the honey-laced scent. The bigger candles already have a pool of wax collecting at their tops.  He also notices that the melted wax on the tapered candles, which are set along the holder’s legs and in its mouth, is beginning to drip down towards their base. The holder itself is a lush golden colour, which reflects the candlelight so beautifully. The soft curves and sharp edges that make up the holder are impeccably still. The sight causes Kurt to smile and his heart fill with pride. He makes a mental note to tell Blaine tomorrow to not bother going out for new holders. The one he has now is lovely and fits in perfectly with the rest of the décor. 

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas; and, just for a moment, Kurt wishes that Blaine was here to see it.

 


	4. Paper

 

Blaine checks his reflection in the elevator mirror and notices the bags under his eyes. It’s only a week into December and he is already dragging his feet. It’s not that he doesn’t love this time of year – he does, mostly because it is Kurt’s favourite, and when Kurt is in the Christmas spirit everything is right in the world. Blaine enjoys his hectic job and home life, immensely, but still, there are just not enough hours in the day sometimes. So Blaine is happy that he was able to leave the office on time for once. The winter season brings in more coughing and sniffling children than the other seasons and today was no different. But luck was on his side and the clinic was fully staffed, so he was able to leave at a reputable hour. He’s looking forward to getting home, changing clothes, and trying out that new cranberry Sodastream mix that is waiting for him. The only thing that would make Blaine’s evening perfect would be if Kurt was off early, too, but he is working a little later today trying to finish up a project. Even so, Blaine is excited to start on dinner and maybe get in some reading and time with Kurt before an early bedtime. 

The elevator dings and the doors open. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Andrews,” he says cheerfully as he holds the elevator doors open for his 90-year-old neighbour. 

The old woman smiles and pinches his cheek like she always does. “You are always such a gentleman; thank you, Blaine.” 

Blaine waits until Mrs. Andrews has wheeled her walker into the elevator before he makes his way to his front door. When he enters the apartment, it is as immaculate as ever. He hangs up his coat, places his shoes on the rack, and goes into the bedroom to change and wash his hands. After he’s finished in the bathroom, he turns on his favourite holiday playlist and goes to the kitchen to fetch the cranberry mix for his Sodasteam. His hand pauses mid-reach when he notices something from the corner of his eye. 

There, attached to the door with a snowman magnet is a small sheet of wrapping paper. It’s white with a snowman pattern on it, and the edges have been cut with scalloped-edged scissors. This is no doubt the work of his husband. The note is cute but what makes Blaine stop in his tracks are the words written upon it (in Kurt’s neat writing):

 

**Blaine’s December List:**

  1. **No soda until NYE**
  2. **6 cups of water daily**
  3. **10 p.m. bedtime**
  4. **Extra yoga session on Sundays**
  5. **Nightly cuffs and edging**



 

Blaine reads the list again and swallows. It’s not out of the ordinary for Kurt to leave him to-do lists, rules, instructions, or anything of the sort. Usually they’re chores or reminders that Blaine needs for self-care. For the most part, this is what the current list is. December is a busy month for them both so he isn’t surprised that Kurt wants him to drop the soda and drink more water, or that he wants him to get enough sleep as well as add to his twice a week yoga sessions. 

There is one item on the list that makes Blaine’s heart race, though. It could qualify as self-care, Blaine supposes, but that last item, he knows, is for his dominant. Kurt wants to cuff him and edge him every night for the entire month. Blaine is completely on board with that. His cock twitches just thinking about all the ways that Kurt will toy with him. Blaine whimpers as he feels his pants tightening. He needs to stop thinking about item five because he still needs to get through dinner, and then prepare for when Kurt gets home and decides it is cuffs-and-edging time. 

Blaine takes a deep breath and wills his cock to behave. He reads the list one more time, pours a large glass of water, then opens the fridge and retrieves the veggies to make a stir-fry. The faster he works, the sooner he’ll be ready for Kurt’s tutelage. He can’t wait.

 

+

 

Blaine’s timing is perfect. Just as he’s drained the noodles and added them to the wok, he hears Kurt walk in. 

“Pet, I’m home.” 

“In the kitchen, Sir.” 

“Something smells good,” Kurt says as he peeks into the kitchen. His cheeks are pink from the cold, but the sweater he’s wearing looks warm and cozy. He hugs Blaine from behind as Blaine is dishing up the stir-fry and presses his nose into the side of Blaine’s neck. “Someone smells good, too,” he adds. 

Blaine leans back into him. “I’m happy you’re home.” 

“Me too,” Kurt says as he kisses Blaine’s cheek then moves away to wash his hands. “I had to work through lunch; I’m starved.” 

Blaine frowns because he doesn’t like it when Kurt doesn’t get a lunch break. He makes note to prepare a bagged lunch for him tomorrow morning. They sit down at the table with their food and ice water (Blaine is on his third glass), and talk about their day. Kurt was busy at the studio signing off on finished renderings for the movie he’s working on. A slight mishap threw everything off schedule, though, which is why he worked through lunch and stayed late. 

“How was your day, pet?” Kurt asks as he pinches a carrot between his chopsticks and shoves it into his mouth. 

“I examined the cutest baby today. He had the flu, poor thing, so he was feverish and cranky, but he was so sweet, Kurt.” The adoring smile that spreads across Kurt’s face warms Blaine’s heart. “Oh and Sir, I saw the snowman paper that you left for me.” 

“I was wondering if you’d see it.” 

“I did just in time; I was about to grab the cranberry for my Sodastream.” 

Kurt chuckles. “I thought you’d want one today. I know how you love your bubbles. I’m sorry pet, but it’s easy to overdo it on the sugar this month. I’m trying to watch out for your health.”                                                                                                                                                                                          

“I know. I don’t mind. I love how you care for me.” Blaine slides his hand across the table and Kurt immediately takes it. 

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart.” Kurt twists some noodles around his chopsticks. After taking a bite and chewing, he asks purposely, “Is there anything on that list that you think will be challenging or that you want to talk about?” 

“It all seems manageable. And although the last item might be challenging, I know that I’m going to love it.” 

Kurt raises a brow. “Is that so?” 

“Mhmm,” Blaine hums, taking a drink. “Trust me, Sir, I’m not complaining. I can’t wait, actually. We start tonight, right?” 

“I’m on a strict deadline, so I’m afraid we’ll have to start right after dinner, pet.” 

Blaine is not sure what the deadline is about. Maybe Kurt has decided to put a time limit on their play. In any case, Blaine knows that Kurt will make it good for the both of them. Even if by the end of the session he is denied, he will feel good knowing that he has pleased his dominant. 

Blaine is just finishing drying up the dishes when Kurt calls to him from the living room. “Blaine, its 7:30. That gives us two and a half hours to do the cuffs and edging. When you’re finished meet me in my sewing room, please.” 

Blaine is a little surprised that Kurt wants to do this in his sewing room. They have a perfectly good (and stocked) play room. Sometimes they use their bedroom or the bathroom if they need the tub or shower … hell, they’ve even used the kitchen a few times, but Kurt’s sewing room? That is always off limits. It’s where Kurt works. It’s where he is most creative… 

 _Oh!_ Kurt wants to step it up a notch then. His sewing room is where he is most imaginative, most focused. That’s why he wants to scene in there tonight. Blaine whimpers to himself thinking about all the creative ways in which Kurt could take advantage of their location. 

“Oh God,” Blaine moans as he leans back against the counter. Kurt’s sewing room has all kinds of tools and knick-knacks that could be used in all types of ways. The ideas are endless and they flash through Blaine’s brain quickly and vividly – sewing mannequins, fabric, thread, thimbles, pins, fabric clips, seam rippers, rulers... He can’t help but press his palm to his crotch and rub the denim into his aching cock. “Fuck…” 

“Blaine? Are you okay? Are you coming?” 

God, Blaine wishes he was coming. “On my way, Sir. Do you want me naked or with clothes on?” 

There is a pause before Kurt answers. “Clothes can stay on. You can take off your shirt when I’m ready with the cuffs.” 

After Blaine takes a moment to get his mind and body under control, he meets Kurt in the sewing room. Kurt is busy cutting and pinning sleeves of beautiful wine coloured velvet together. Blaine wonders if that’s what he’s planning to use as a blindfold. “Where do you want me, Sir?” 

“On the stool,” Kurt mumbles through the pins he’s holding between his lips. “Just let me sew this up quick so you can try it on.” 

Blaine sits on the stool and tries to be as patient as possible. He watches Kurt work. Kurt is beautiful. His brows are scrunched together as he focuses on the task at hand, and a stray lock of hair has fallen onto his forehead. His lips are a pretty pink as they press together holding the pins. The vein in his neck is prominent as he bends over the fabric just so, and the lines of his body are riveting. Blaine is mesmerized. 

“Alright,” Kurt says straightening up with the velvet sleeve in his hands. “Take off your shirt, pet, I need to measure you for the final fitting.” 

“Ok,” Blaine says. He’s a little perplexed but he trusts Kurt, so he simply follows orders and removes his shirt. 

“Hold your arm out, palm down, please.” 

Kurt takes out the tape measure and wraps it around Blaine’s forearm and then his wrist. He turns back towards his sewing machine and makes some quick adjustments to the sleeve. He slides the sleeve up Blaine’s arm until the cuff is in place. “There we are, now to add the edging.” 

As Kurt crosses the room to retrieve a roll of Chantilly lace, Blaine clues in to what is happening. Kurt had told him about this project a month ago. The director Kurt is working with loved Kurt’s costume renderings the moment he saw them, but he wasn’t sold on the sleeves; he thought they weren’t quite right for the period the script is set in. Kurt was annoyed that the director didn’t “have any vision,” so he derived a plan to show him that his pieces would be perfect for the film. Kurt proposed to make prototypes of every costume’s sleeve, including the cuff and edging, so that the director could see them in actuality. 

Blaine is an idiot. He was so blinded by his own desire and need that he completely over-looked Kurt’s project. Kurt was never planning a session. Blaine was always to be a model for his prototypes - the cuffs and their edgings. 

“Blaine, are you alright?” 

“Oh, yeah, yes, I’m fine, sorry,” Blaine says and lifts his arm again for Kurt to place a cuff onto. 

Kurt pulls a stool up and sits in front of Blaine. “You spaced out on me.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Blaine says and waves his hand. 

“Blaine, you’re not okay. What’s the matter?” Kurt asks and takes Blaine’s extended hand in his own. 

Blaine takes a breath. “I … I think that I just made something up in my head, that’s all.” 

Kurt stays silent and rubs his thumb over Blaine’s knuckles. 

“When I saw that you had written ‘nightly cuffs and edging’ on the list, I thought it referred to something else.” 

Kurt leans back in realization. “Oh. Ohh, my.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You thought I was planning a scene, not that I was going to make you model my sleeve prototypes.” 

“Right.” Blaine looks down and rubs his neck. “I got myself worked up over it, and now that I’m sitting in your sewing room trying on sleeves, it just hit me. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry for. And actually, I should be the one apologizing. I need to watch the words I use.” 

“No, Sir, I love helping you. It’s my pleasure to sit and talk with you, watch you work, and be your model. I was just expecting something else.” 

“I love all of that, too. And you have to know that this has little to do with me working and a lot to do with me trying to spend more time with you. I was dreading this week, knowing that I’d be coming home late only to hole myself up in my sewing room to work some more. I don’t like ignoring you, sweetheart. I enjoy your company and love spending as much time as possible with you. I thought this little project would kill two birds with one stone.” 

Blaine stands and wraps his arms around Kurt’s neck. “Any time spent with you is perfect, Sir.” 

“I feel the same about you, pet,” Kurt murmurs and nuzzles into Blaine’s neck before pressing him back to look into his eyes. “How about this, once I’m done with all these prototypes, which should be by Thursday evening, I’ll give you the real cuffing and edging that you’ve no doubt been daydreaming about.” 

“Ohh, yes, please.” 

Kurt laughs. “Only my insatiable pet would confuse a sewing project with an edging session.” 

“Kuuurt!” 

“Come on Mr. Cuffs-And-Edging, help me with this Chantilly lace.”

 


	5. Ribbon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the use of the word "slut" (as a term of endearment). If you don't already know, in this verse, this is a word that Kurt uses freely in addressing Blaine. And, Blaine likes it.

 

The door to Kurt’s sewing room is ajar and letting in the flickering light and warmth from the living room’s fireplace. Kurt is situated at his cutting table, humming to himself as he works meticulously. Despite the light filtering in from the other room, Kurt has his bright lamp focused on the project at hand. The task he’s consumed with is not complicated by any stretch, but there is no room for error or subpar quality; he takes his time to do it with care and love.  Once he has all the lengths of ribbon laid out, he refers to the specifications he took of the space earlier and measures and marks the fabric with chalk. To deter the ribbon ends from fraying, he chooses his sharpest fabric scissors and cuts six strands. 

“I think these will do quite nicely,” he murmurs, and slips his fingers into the head of curls at his thigh. 

All afternoon Blaine has been made to kneel and crawl at Kurt’s heels, taking notes while Kurt paced, measured, arranged, deliberated, and cut. Now, Blaine rests in the spot Kurt had pointed to and waits until Kurt is ready to give the next command. 

“As cute as you look in those t-shirt and jeans, it’s time to take them off, pet. Underwear too, you know the drill.” 

Blaine nods softly and makes quick work of slipping out of his clothing. By the time he’s completely naked, Kurt is waiting for him in the center of the room with six long strands of ribbon in hand. Kurt has spread out a thin blanket on the hardwood floor, more so to protect his sewing room’s floor than for Blaine’s benefit. “Lay down here, pet, on your back and spread eagle.” 

Blaine crawls to the chosen spot and does as he’s told. Soon after, Kurt is kneeling beside Blaine’s legs, donning metal thimbles on each of his index fingers. “Now be still, pet. I want to do this part without binding you. Do you think you can be a good boy for me?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“It’s been too long since I abused these nipples of yours, sweetheart – about a couple weeks,” Kurt says as he begins to move the thimbles along Blaine’s nipples, flicking, and rubbing. 

Blaine moans long and deeply. 

Kurt stops. “Does it feel good, baby?” 

“So good. Please, may I have more?” 

“Of course you may.” 

Kurt rubs for a few minutes, switching from soft, fleeting strokes to harsh chafing. Each time Blaine moves, Kurt stops and reminds him that he said he’d be a good boy and be still. When Blaine regains control, Kurt starts again, rubbing, pressing, flicking, and working the grooves of the thimbles against the delicate skin of Blaine’s swelling little pebbles. 

“There we go,” Kurt praises. “The less you move, the more I rub, baby. That’s my good boy.” 

Blaine’s muscles strain as he keeps as still as possible, but his breath comes out in short harsh gasps as Kurt carries on with his treatment. 

When Kurt decides that Blaine’s nipples are good and raw, he stops, sets the thimbles aside, and takes a long strand of wide black ribbon. He wraps it around Blaine’s thigh just above his knee. “You’re a lucky boy, sweetheart,” Kurt tells him. “This ribbon is imported velvet, and it’s double faced. I chose it because it’s luxurious and soft, just like you.” 

Kurt knots the velvet snugly to Blaine’s thigh and tugs until Blaine’s leg opens up. Kurt walks to the edge of the room where his sewing table is situated and pulls tautly on the ribbon, attaching it to the leg of the table. “How does it feel?” 

“Soft and secure, Sir.” 

Kurt mimics his actions on Blaine’s other thigh and pulls rigidly to bind it to the cutting table on the opposite side of the room, making Blaine’s legs open wider than the spread eagle he was already in. “I think that will hold nicely,” Kurt says as he tests the ribbon out by tugging on it. “Velvet is soft but strong.” 

When Kurt kneels by Blaine’s head, Blaine automatically lifts his arms up above his head. “Good boy,” Kurt praises, as he takes both of Blaine’s wrists and kisses each one in turn. He chooses two more lengths of velvet ribbon and wraps them around each of Blaine’s wrists. Kurt pulls them up and watches as his sub’s torso stretches out beautifully. “This morning I had to anchor this cabinet to the wall. I was determined to have you in here today, and I want it to be stable for you, pet.”

“Thank you, Sir.” 

Kurt ties the ends of the ribbon to opposite ends of the cabinet so that Blaine’s arms are positioned into a wide V. “That’s four down, two to go. Would you like to take a guess as to where the last two lengths of ribbon will go, pet?” 

Blaine closes his eyes and bites his lip. “Yes I would, Sir.” 

Kurt kneels between Blaine’s spread legs and grins down at him. “Well?” 

“Around my testicles and cock, Sir?” 

Kurt’s fingertips caress Blaine’s stomach and trail down to his cock, which springs up to attention at the fleeting touch. Kurt bypasses it and instead pinches and pets the insides of Blaine’s thighs. 

“You’re half right, sweetheart. Let me show you.” 

The length of ribbon Kurt takes is different from the other four. He holds up the narrow fabric so that Blaine can see it. “This is delicate silk, pet. I hand-dyed it myself with a pretty cobalt hue I found. I thought it would be perfect to bind your beautiful balls with; what do you think?” 

“It is beautiful, Sir. The colour reminds me of your eyes.” 

Kurt grins. “Hmm, you are quite the charmer, Blaine Warbler, even when you’re all tied up for me.” 

“It’s no charm, Sir. It’s the truth. I know how much you value truth time.” 

Kurt laughs because his husband knows him so well. He leans down and rewards Blaine with a soft kiss to the tip of his cock. Then, purposely, he separates Blaine’s balls, spreading them apart from each other. He wraps one length of silk around his left testicle, mindful to not completely cut off the circulation. He pulls it across and binds it snugly to Blaine’s right thigh, leaving only about three inches of ribbon between the two anchor points. Kurt repeats the motion to Blaine’s right testicle, and when he pulls it to the left, Blaine releases a symphony of guttural moans. 

“I know, pet. It hurts good, doesn’t it?” 

“Yes, God, yes.” 

“That’s my good boy,” Kurt says and plucks at the straining, exposed silk, sending vibrations to Blaine’s cock by way of his balls. 

Blaine’s breath quickens and becomes harsher. 

“Well, I can tell you, pet, that if it feels as good as it looks, you’re a lucky boy. And, it will help keep your orgasm in check,” Kurt adds. 

Blaine whines. 

“Oh yes, sweetheart. You’re in for a long edging. Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that the first thing you thought of when you saw the words ‘cuffs and edging’ on the fridge? 

“Sir…” 

“What about when I asked you to meet me in my sewing room? Is this what you pictured? Being bound by some of my most expensive ribbon to the legs of my work tables? Hmmm?” 

“Please…” 

Kurt stands up so that he can take his clothes off, too. Once he’s as naked as Blaine, he takes a moment to admire his work. Blaine is on his back, his nipples red and raw, and his cock bobbing and dribbling. His thighs and wrists are spread and bound, and his balls are criss-crossed tightly. “The black velvet and cobalt silk look so gorgeous against your skin, Blaine. I think I’m going to have to make you some bow ties with these after we’re done. Would you like that - to literally wear the ties that bound you?” 

“S-sir, yes…” 

Kurt grabs one of his wooden rulers from the peg board and slaps it gently against his palm. “Each time the fabric of the bow tie slips around your throat, you’ll remember what it feels like to be a bound slut for me. It will make you grow so hard in your pants, Blaine.” 

Blaine pants and whines, his eyes dark and focused on nothing but his dominant. 

“Won’t it?” 

“Yes!” 

“Say it.” 

“I – I would get so hard, Sir, so hard in my pants.” 

Kurt slaps the ruler particularly hard against his own palm. “And what would make you get so hard?” 

“Your ties, Sir - your velvet and silk ties around my throat. And the memory. The memory of being a bound slut for you.” 

Suddenly, Kurt straddles Blaine’s hips, while his thumb rubs generously along the length of Blaine’s jugular. “You’re perfect, Blaine. I love you like this and every which way.” 

Blaine’s moan is cut off by Kurt’s pressing lips and plundering tongue. Kurt kisses him hard and roughly, his hand clenching around Blaine’s throat, very briefly cutting off his air before it slides up to tug at Blaine’s curls. When Kurt takes a breath he whispers hot against Blaine’s earlobe. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You’ve been daydreaming of this all week, I know you have.” 

Blaine’s voice is low and shaky, and absolutely wrecked. “Every minute, Sir.” 

“You knew I would give you this, didn’t you? You knew I wouldn’t be able to resist binding you with my most precious ribbon.” 

“Yes, Sir, I knew it… because you always make my dreams come true.” 

Kurt laughs lovingly against Blaine’s cheek. “I’m glad, my precious one. Because you not only make my dreams come true, you _are_ my dreams – the man of my dreams.” 

“Oh, Kurt…” 

Kurt kisses him again, taking his time to pour all the love he has into the gesture. After he’s had his fill, he breaks the kiss with a loud popping sound, then scoots down so that he’s kneeling between Blaine’s knees. “You ready?” 

“Fuck. Yes.” 

SMACK! 

Blaine yelps when the ruler hits his thigh. The impact makes his hips jerk up; the motion yanks at the silk and pain shoots through his trapped balls. “Ohh, shit.” Before he can recover, Kurt swings again. 

SMACK! 

“S-sir.” 

SMACK! 

“Ohh, God. Fuck.” 

Kurt smacks him a fourth, fifth, sixth time, then moves to the other thigh. Each time Blaine cries out, Kurt is encouraged to hit harder, peppering Blaine’s inner thighs from knee to where his balls are anchored. He’s careful, of course, to not touch Blaine’s balls with the ruler, but he gets close enough to make Blaine squirm hard from each blow – or maybe from the fear that his balls will be hit. 

“God, Blaine, your thighs are gorgeous. I want your skin to be a mosaic of blues and purples tomorrow,” Kurt tells him. “Can you take more?” 

“No, p-please,” Blaine has tears slipping down his cheeks.

“I think you can, sweetheart. I missed a couple spots.” 

“Pleasepleaseplease…” 

“One more on each thigh,” Kurt coaxes, slipping his fingertip up Blaine’s rock hard shaft and to the tip, massaging the dribbling precome into the smooth tight head. “For me, pet.” 

Blaine takes a deep breath and pulls at his bindings – to no avail, of course. 

“One … one more … for you,” Blaine acquiesces. 

SMACK! 

SMACK! 

Blaine cries out, his hips lifting harshly from the force of the swats. On the upward motion, Kurt’s hand is suddenly around his cock and stroking – fast and hard. 

“You’re a good boy, Blaine. My very good boy.” 

“I can’t, I can’t, fuck, please, Ssssir…” 

“You can, my love,” Kurt encourages. His hand jerks Blaine’s cock in a tight fist, while his thumb edges upward, flicking at the ridge of his head with each stroke. Kurt adds a generous dollop of lube to Blaine’s already wet cock, and the glide becomes smoother, slicker. The sound of it fills the room alongside Blaine’s constant moaning and whining. 

“Please may I come? Please? Oh Jesus, pleaseplease…” Blaine begs. 

Kurt releases him, and while Blaine is trying to regain his breath, his composure, his everything, Kurt has his wet slick fingers in his own ass, stretching himself quickly and efficiently. “I’m going to ride you, baby,” he tells Blaine. “You look and sound too good not to fuck right now.” 

“Yesyesyes, please.” Blaine babbles and lifts his head, his eyes glued to Kurt as he opens himself up. Blaine’s hands open and close into fists as he tries to tug at the ribbons, no doubt needing to touch Kurt. When the bindings don’t budge, he groans loudly and his body shakes with need. 

“You are so lucky your balls are bound, baby. It’s helping to hold back your orgasm.” Kurt slides his fingers out and mounts Blaine, lining up his hole with Blaine’s cock. Quickly he sits, the sting in his ass is harsh, but Kurt doesn’t care. His desire for Blaine is too intense to go slow. His sub has been so good and so hot, that Kurt simply can’t wait. 

“Ohhh shit,” Blaine cries, “Your ass is so good, fuck.” 

Kurt rides Blaine into the floor of his sewing room. His powerful legs propel him up and slam down onto Blaine’s cock, forcefully. He uses Blaine’s cock as a tool to fuck himself deeply and hard, and he can do nothing but grunt out his pleasure. Kurt leans back, using his hands to prop himself up, his fingers digging strongly into Blaine’s bruised thighs. The motion changes the angle so that Blaine’s tip lodges into his prostate with each downward slam and, before he knows it, Kurt is on the edge. 

He lunges forward, one hand on his cock, and the other in Blaine’s hair. “Open,” Kurt grunts, shoving the tip of his cock into Blaine’s mouth and shooting ribbons of come down his throat with a deep cry. “Sw-swallow,” he hisses, and loses himself in watching Blaine suckle and gulp. 

A few moments later, once the fog clears from his head, Kurt looks down at Blaine. His eyes are screwed shut and his mouth is open wide as he gasps for air. Kurt can see remnants of his pearly release on his tongue and lips. The sight makes his spent cock twitch violently. “You’re beautiful,” he says. 

“Sir…” is all Blaine can manage. 

Kurt leans down to kiss his nose, his cheeks, and his forehead. “I love you, Blaine.” 

“Love…you.” 

Kurt’s kisses move south, down Blaine’s throat, past his nipples, sternum, stomach, and around his still throbbing cock. Kurt’s tongue trails down Blaine’s oblique muscle until he reaches the silk ties. He uses his teeth to pluck at them, sending Blaine into another round of babbling. 

“Let’s get these off you, sweetheart.” 

Kurt unbinds Blaine’s balls carefully. When the fabric is completely off, and the blood filters back into his balls again, Blaine howls and pulls at his bindings. “It stings,” he moans, “stings so good…” 

“Mhmm, baby.” 

Blaine lifts his hips, in a silent plea. 

“What does my boy want?” 

“Please, Sir, may I touch? May I come?” 

Kurt’s palms rubs along Blaine’s bruises lovingly. His eyes are blown wide open as he watches Blaine writhe and tug, so obviously turned on. “I want to deny you so badly, sweetheart. I love it when you’re in that space … when you’re horny and desperate.” 

“Ohgodpleaseohgodplease…” Blaine chants. 

“But you beg so prettily, and you’ve been such a very good slut for me tonight.” 

Blaine's mouth moves, but he can't form any words. All Kurt can hear is his harsh exhalation. 

“So, yes, you may come, my beautiful.” Kurt squirts more lube onto Blaine’s twitching cock, and begins stroking him again. It doesn’t take long. Blaine has been turned on for quite some time, and now that the bindings are off his balls, his orgasm builds quickly and powerfully. 

When it hits, Blaine shouts. His thighs tug at their bindings hard enough to move the tables across the floor an inch or two. Kurt is very glad he decided to mount the cabinet to the wall because Blaine’s wrists tug so hard it rattles the supplies he has stored in it. Kurt watches Blaine’s seed shoot up and splatter down onto his own chest and on the blanket beneath him. The sound of Blaine’s whimpers are so beautiful that it makes Kurt’s heart ache. 

Kurt makes quick work of unbinding Blaine from the ribbons, and sets them aside so that he can fulfill his promise of making bow ties out of them. He then leaves Blaine to fetch a warm wet washcloth, the bruise balm, a blanket, and some apple juice. When he returns, he cleans off Blaine’s chest and applies the Lavender and Cypress balm carefully to his bruised thighs and raw nipples. When he’s finished treating the skin, he wraps Blaine up in the clean blanket and holds him tightly to his chest. “Drink some juice, sweetheart.” 

Blaine nuzzles into Kurt’s neck, as he always does after and intense orgasm, making it clear that he wants nothing but his husband. Kurt coaxes him to take some sips, though, with promises of kisses and caresses. When Blaine is a little calmer, Kurt kisses his lips softly. “Can I tell you a secret?” 

Blaine lifts his gaze in a silent answer. 

Kurt gives him a sly smile, “I wrote ‘cuffs and edging’ on purpose.” 

Blaine laughs and nips at Kurt’s lips. “I know that now, honey.” 

“Although, I never thought about playing in my sewing room; thank you for the idea.” 

Blaine presses his lips to Kurt’s jaw, pecking softly. “My pleasure.”

 


	6. Feed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of eating disorders.

 

Blaine notices it on a Friday evening. He’s not entirely sure how to approach the subject with Kurt, but he does know that he has to approach it. He’s been Kurt’s partner for a long time; he knows the signs when Kurt is stressed or retreating into his own world. A little of that is healthy, but Blaine has learned that when things get out of control in Kurt’s life, something always gives. Usually Kurt does a good job of hiding it – to everyone else, Kurt still looks like he’s in control and on top of things, and maybe he is with things like work, his professional relationships, and his flawless appearance - but Blaine isn’t fooled. He can see right through all of that. 

Mostly, Blaine is able to intervene early enough. If he notices that Kurt is baking more than they can eat, sewing well into the night, drinking too much coffee, or forgetting to eat breakfast, Blaine knows to step in. It’s only been once when Blaine didn’t catch it until Kurt started unknowingly ignoring his needs, but Blaine was able to weather through it and bring Kurt back to him in due time. Blaine knows that Kurt doesn’t see the signs; he’s far too immersed in his stressful world to notice. That’s what Blaine is there for - to care for him, and to hold him accountable to himself and to his role as Blaine’s husband and dominant. 

Blaine has been working late all week. The clinic has been at capacity with sick little ones, and he just hasn’t had the heart to turn anyone away. So, since he hasn’t been home for dinners, it’s been easy for him to miss the signs. He came home early today, being Friday, and made a roasted squash soup with homemade buns for dinner. When Kurt arrived home, Blaine served him a large bowl along with buns and a pomegranate and arugula salad. They sat together and talked about their day as they usually do, but Blaine saw the way in which Kurt picked at his salad, stirred his soup around the bowl more than ate it, and took only a couple tiny bites of the bread before declaring himself full.

Blaine doesn’t broach the subject that evening. He acts no different than any other evening. He helps clean up the table and dries the dishes while Kurt washes. Later, they curl up on the couch with a movie. When Blaine offers Kurt some hot chocolate, Kurt declines it. 

The next day, after spending a leisurely morning in bed with Kurt, Blaine rises to make breakfast. When Kurt comes down, he greets Blaine with a kiss and sits at the table with his iPad. Blaine serves him coffee, along with Greek yogurt with honey and Kurt’s favourite granola. 

“Oh, thank you sweetheart, but I’m still full from dinner last night.” 

Blaine sets down his coffee mug and looks into Kurt’s eyes, watching as Kurt obliviously concentrates on solving his daily word game. “Kurt, you barely ate anything last night,” Blaine finally says. 

Kurt takes a sip of his coffee. It’s his most used stalling tactic, Blaine knows. “I ate enough.” 

“You had two spoons of soup, a bite of bread, and three pieces of arugula.” 

Kurt sets down his iPad and raises a brow. “You were keeping track?” 

“No, honey, but’s it’s fairly easy to notice how much you’re not eating. Squash is your favourite. You usually gobble it up and ask for seconds.” 

“Oh, Blaine, it’s not because it wasn’t good. It was as delicious as always.” 

“Thank you,” Blaine says, letting the words fall from his lips. He places his hand on Kurt’s wrist. “But why haven’t you been eating? And please don’t shrug me off, Kurt.” Blaine knows he’s pushing it, but this isn’t something he can let go. Kurt’s health is on the line. 

Kurt huffs. “It’s fine. I just haven’t been hungry.” 

“It’s not fine.” 

Kurt gets up suddenly and goes to the sink to place his half empty mug into it. “Could you please not pull the doctor act on me right now, Blaine?” 

Blaine turns in his chair and looks at Kurt incredulously. “The doctor act? What?” 

“It’s a thing you do. You watch me like a hawk and any time I cough or leave a morsel of food on my plate, or go to bed three minutes past my bedtime you think there’s something wrong and you try to push your medical advice on me!” 

Blaine just stares at him. It dawns on him that Kurt’s stress is far more prevalent than he originally thought – which is why, he can’t back down. 

“Kurt, I _am_ a doctor.” 

“No, you’re not. You haven’t officially graduated yet.”

Blaine recoils like he’s been slapped in the face. It’s true, he’s not graduated yet, but it’s not because he’s failing or slacking. It’s because he’s not yet finished his residency. He has five more months to go; then he will be a full-fledged medical doctor. Kurt knows that. Kurt also knows that he is an excellent physician. He has his grades and the praise of his supervising doctors and professors to prove it. 

“You’re right, I haven’t, but this has nothing to do with my profession, and everything to do with you being stressed and not eating. I’m just trying to take care of you, Kurt.” 

“I don’t need to be taken care of, Blaine. Stop babying me. Besides, it’s my job to take care of _you_.” Kurt walks right past Blaine and out of the kitchen. 

So Kurt wants to go that route. Blaine rolls his eyes and follows him out. Kurt is usually the first to say that they are equals. Yes, his job is to take care of Blaine, but Blaine’s job is to take care of Kurt. Blaine knows that, right now, Kurt is stressed and it’s making him lash out. “I really don’t want to fight about this, Kurt, so can we please sit down and talk it out?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Kurt, do you really want to take care of me?”

Kurt stops in his tracks half way up the stairs and turns around. “Are you seriously asking me that?” 

“It’s a valid question, because right now it feels like you’re not taking me seriously.” 

Kurt drops down onto the step and bows his head, sliding his fingers into his hair. He takes a deep breath before looking back up at Blaine. “Have I been ignoring you? Have I missed providing what you need? Have I…” 

“No, Kurt. It’s none of that. I’m really concerned about you. I’m worried, and you shrugging this all off is diminishing how I feel.” 

“Sweetheart, honestly, there’s nothing to be concerned with. I’m just under pressure at work. The deadlines before the holidays are crazy. I don’t want to bring work home with me because I’d rather spend time with you, so when I’m at the studio, I work really hard to get everything done. I’m just really tired.” 

“Too tired to eat?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Have you been skipping lunch, too?” 

Kurt looks down sheepishly. 

“Kurt, you’re not eating breakfast or lunch, then having only a few bites of dinner. That’s not enough. Any doctor would be concerned about that, but…” Blaine puts up his hand to stop Kurt from interrupting, “more importantly, your husband, your submissive, is concerned about it. I want to help. I want to reduce your stress, and help you get back to healthy eating habits.” 

“It’s just been this week,” Kurt finally admits. 

“I know, and that’s a week too long as far as I’m concerned. Will you let me help?” 

Kurt takes Blaine’s hand and tugs him gently until he is sitting in Kurt’s lap. His arms envelop him and he buries his face into Blaine’s soft sweater. “Ok.” 

Blaine breathes a sigh of relief and kisses into Kurt’s hair. “Thank you. Now come on, I’ll make you lunch.” 

“Wait.” 

“What is it?” 

“I’m sorry for what I said. I love that you’re a doctor, and a damn good one, too.” 

“I know that.” 

“You know that I love it, or that you’re a good one?” Kurt teases. 

Blaine laughs and winks, “yes.” 

Kurt leans in to kiss Blaine’s jaw. “All jokes aside, I’m so proud of you, Blaine.” 

“Thank you. I’m proud of you, too. Whatever is going on at work, I know you’re the best fashion designer the world has ever seen.” 

Kurt laughs. “You’re biased.” 

“I’m right.”

 

+

 

Twenty minutes later, Kurt is situated at the table again with a bowl of leftover roasted squash soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Blaine wanted to make him something more extravagant, but Kurt insisted on his favourite soup. “Thank you, sweetheart. I really do love your soup, and I’m sorry I didn’t eat it last night.” 

“I know you love it, that’s why it made me so concerned when you didn’t eat it.” Blaine sits down beside him and folds himself up in his chair with a shy look on his face. 

“Are you ok?” Kurt asks. 

“Uh huh.” 

“Blaine.” 

“I just … I wish you’d let me take care of you more.” 

“You do. Look at this delicious soup you’ve made. And you’ve called me out on all my bullshit.” 

Blaine shakes his head. “It’s not bullshit,” he says and stands so that he can sit in Kurt’s lap. “I…” 

Kurt helps him get situated on his lap then pokes him, gently. “What is it?” 

“Iwanttofeedyou.” 

Kurt raises a brow. “Say that again?” 

Blaine swallows the lump in his throat and repeats slowly, “I want to feed you.” 

“That’s what I thought you said,” Kurt whispers and presses his forehead to Blaine’s. “That’s my job - to feed you.” 

“Yes, and I love when you do,” Blaine presses his hands to either side of Kurt’s face, “But please, Sir, let me? Just this once. You haven’t eaten. I want to feed you. I want to nourish you.” 

“My sweet boy…” 

“Please?” 

“My recent eating habits have really affected you, haven’t they?” 

“So much,” Blaine admits. 

“I promise it’s nothing more than me being stressed. I don’t have a disorder or anything.” 

“After lunch let’s talk about how I can help you manage this month’s workload, or ways in which I can help with your stress,” Blaine offers. He pauses a moment and then adds, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s a disorder, but I want you to know that if it were, I would love you through it.” 

“Blaine…” 

“I mean it. I love you through good times and bad, through thick and thin, in sickness and in health.” 

Kurt leans back to look into Blaine’s eyes, which are stormy with unrest and worry, but also with unwavering and endless love. “There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t give you, Blaine. I may deny you things from time to time, but nothing that truly matters, like your peace of mind, and the fulfillment of your heart.” 

Blaine can’t help but kiss him. But the kiss is brief, because he leans back enough so that he can take the soup spoon in hand. He ladles some soup onto it and brings it to his lips testing, making sure it’s not too hot before offering it up to Kurt. 

Kurt looks at him for a moment. They are something entirely different - these roles they’re now taking on - yet they’re not so different at all. This is just another way in which Blaine cares for him. Whether Kurt is holding the spoon to Blaine’s mouth, or Blaine to his, they are in this together. They take care of each other. They feed each other. 

Kurt opens and takes a mouthful of the tantalizing soup, swallowing it down, and letting it nourish him – letting Blaine nourish him. “Thank you, pet,” he whispers. 

Blaine nods and offers another spoonful. “More, Sir?” 

“Yes, more. With you I always want more.”

 


	7. Gradual

 

Kurt is sitting in the corner armchair, watching. He’s mesmerized by the movement of Blaine’s muscles, and can’t take his eyes off him. The knowledge of what Blaine can do with those muscles does nothing to curb the growing thickness in his pants. 

Blaine sits on the floor with his legs straight out in front of him. His thigh, calf, and ankle muscles move rhythmically in a flossing motion while he points then flexes his feet in a repetitive motion. 

“Fifty!” Blaine calls out. 

“Very good, pet,” Kurt praises. “Now stand up, we’re going to try it away from the wall this time.” 

Blaine inhales deeply and stands up. He takes his usual position, but this time far from the wall so he can’t reach to touch it.  Kurt inspects his stance, ensuring his legs are shoulder-width apart, that his feet are square, and that his toes are spread. Blaine has done his fair bit of yoga, so the correction Kurt has to make is minimal. 

“Make sure your knees aren’t locked, pet. We can’t have you off balance.” 

Blaine bends his knees very slightly and places his hands on his hips.

“Ready?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Kurt stands in front of Blaine and smiles fondly. “I have faith in you, pet.” 

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“Up!” Kurt commands with a wave of his hand and a flick of his stopwatch. 

Blaine lifts up smoothly onto his toes. Once he’s up, he wobbles a little until he settles his weight to rest onto his toes and the balls of his feet. Kurt knows Blaine’s set when his fingers relax along his hips, and his gaze fixates on the focal point, which is a simple note pinned to the wall at Blaine’s eye level, reading _: I love you_. It’s simple, really, but Kurt knows it’s the key to helping Blaine get through it when his muscles are burning and he’s ready to give up. 

Blaine has come a long way since they began this training. It started one day when Blaine came home from his first yoga class waxing poetic about a stretch that made the muscles in his feet feel better. Blaine, being a runner, is fit and his muscles are strong. Kurt wanted a way for Blaine to stay flexible and for his toned and tightening muscles to stay loose and malleable. The yoga exercise was the perfect starting point, and the disciplinary angle Kurt mixed with it has done wonders, not only for Blaine’s agility (his spread eagle is a sight to behold), but also for his mental well-being. 

“You’re doing well, pet. Stay focused,” Kurt encourages. 

Kurt watches a moment before he begins pacing in a circle around Blaine. Kurt has discovered that it’s best for him to keep moving otherwise he’d just sit in the chair and masturbate while watching his gorgeous submissive’s strong body work for him. Blaine’s feet and legs are powerful and beautifully toned. Kurt lets his gaze travel up the curve of Blaine’s straining arches, calves, thighs, and ass, which disappears teasingly beneath Blaine’s sinfully tight green shorts that Kurt has allowed him to wear. 

“Fuck, you’re hot like this.” 

Blaine blushes. 

Kurt wants to touch him, pinch him, spank him, fuck him… but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to distract Blaine’s training. So, he sits back down in his chair and thinks about how far Blaine has come. When he first started, they stuck to the beginner yoga position which had Blaine on his knees with his sit bones resting on his heels, and the undersides of his toes pressed to the mat. Kurt timed him and gradually upped the length of time Blaine had to sit in the position. When he got up to fifteen minutes, Kurt changed the position to have Blaine stand like Blaine is now, except using the wall for balance. At first, Blaine was allowed to use the wall freely, as long as he was up on his toes. Then, Kurt made him use it only when he absolutely had to in order to keep his balance and from toppling forward or back. As Blaine became more proficient in the standing position, Kurt increased the time. 

Kurt doesn’t even need to look at the stopwatch to tell how long Blaine has been at it. Kurt can tell by the way his thigh muscles twitch and how his calves tremble. Blaine’s fingers have started digging into his hips again, and Kurt can see a dusting of sweat gleaming off his skin. Kurt checks his stopwatch anyway. He doesn’t want to give Blaine a false time count. 

“You’re at twenty minutes, sweetheart.” 

Blaine whimpers. 

Kurt gets out of his chair again to stand before Blaine. “I know, pet, twenty-five minutes has been your record so far, but I’m going to push you. I want twenty-six minutes at least. Do you think you can do it?” 

Blaine just breathes harshly through his nose. 

“I asked you a question. Are you going to answer or shall I get my crop?” 

“Yes,” Blaine blurts. “Yes, I think I can do it, Sir.” 

Kurt has a sharp eye, so, although it’s very slight, he notices the wobble; Blaine recovers quickly and regains his position. 

“Sweetheart, let me help you take your mind off the time,” Kurt says as he retrieves a bag from beside his chair. He digs into it and takes out two small, identical pieces of wood. Each one has a circular base with one wooden spike protruding up the center of it.  “This is what we’re working towards. It’s been gradual, and I will continue to push you slowly, but surely,” he says and shows Blaine the new devices. 

Blaine’s eyes go wide. 

“I want to get to the point where I’m so comfortable in your ability to stay up on your tiptoes that I will have no problem placing these beneath your raised heels. If you lose focus for even a second and fall back, it’s going to hurt, Blaine. The wooden points are sharp.” 

Blaine’s breathing is laboured, and now his entire body shakes. “How long?” he gasps out. 

“How long? How long, what?” Kurt teases. “How long until you’re ready for my spikes? How long is my cock?” 

“Please, S-sir, how much time?” 

Kurt notices that Blaine’s toes are gripping the hardwood floor hard, and that he is gathering the fabric of his shorts in his fists as his body bounces ever so slightly. His heels inch closer to the floor, but Blaine’s willful mind and strong muscles are fighting gravity. That sight makes Kurt’s cock throb. Kurt checks his stopwatch again. “Twenty-four minutes.” 

Blaine takes a few shuttering breaths and closes his eyes. This causes his balance to shift, but Kurt can see that he’s fighting it. 

“Open your eyes, pet,” Kurt commands. 

Blaine does, with a whimper. 

“This is the goal,” Kurt says and holds up the wooden spikes in front of Blaine’s eyes. “From now on, they are your focal point, a reminder that the harder you train, the less chance there is of you hurting your pretty heels.” 

Blaine bites at his lip as his body continues to bounce and his heels drop a little closer to the floor. “I can’t,” he whispers harshly. 

“You can, Blaine,” Kurt encourages. “I know you can. You don’t doubt my belief in you, do you?” 

“No. Never.” 

“Thirty seconds, sweetheart.” 

Blaine grunts and his body shakes, but he holds steady and his gaze never leave the spikes that Kurt is holding in front of him. 

The last fifteen seconds pass by with Blaine panting loudly, and his body almost convulsing with the strain of holding the position. The second the stopwatch hits twenty-six minutes, Kurt says, “down.” 

Blaine falls back on his heels with a harsh sob and a blinks away a few tears. 

Kurt is on him immediately. “Good boy, Blaine. You’re a good boy for me.” Kurt guides him down to the floor so that he’s sitting, again with his legs out in front of him. This time Kurt sits behind him, propping him up and hugging him close. “Shake your legs out, beautiful. I’ve got you.” 

Blaine obeys and starts shaking out his legs and flexing his toes and ankles. While he’s doing that, Kurt nuzzles into his neck and pecks encouraging kisses along his skin. “I’m so proud of you.” 

“Did I do it?” Blaine asks. 

“Yes, sweetheart, you beat your record. Twenty-six minutes.” 

Blaine sags back into him and Kurt can feel the relief encompass his body. 

“I love you so much," Kurt tells him. 

“I love you, too.” 

“Mmm,” Kurt murmurs. “Now let’s get you to bed so that I can give you a nice leg and foot massage.” 

“Oh, Sir, that sounds like heaven right now.” 

“But I have one condition,” Kurt says. 

Blaine turns his head and looks up at Kurt, who is returning his gaze with a sly grin. Blaine dips his lashes and whispers, “I want to say ‘anything for you’, but I’m kind of scared you’re going to use those contraptions to massage me.” 

“That’s not what the condition is, but you have given me a good idea for next time,” Kurt grins and winks. 

When Blaine pouts, Kurt kisses it away, and then murmurs against his lips, “The condition is that you get the massage, but I get the happy ending.” 

Blaine snorts and presses his forehead to Kurt's. “Of course.”

 


	8. House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a brief mention of Finn.

 

Blaine plunks himself down onto the kitchen stool with a twirl. As his husband does the same right into his lap, Blaine thinks that it just doesn’t get any better than this. The atmosphere in their home is festive and cozy. There is a smoldering fire in the fireplace, the scent of ginger, sugar and butter in the air, and Blaine’s preferred Christmas jazz playlist filtering from the speakers. Today is gingerbread house and gingerbread men decorating day. 

He and Kurt have both been at it all morning mixing, rolling, cutting, and baking the gingerbread. They were at the stage where Kurt starts to get prickly while trying to build the structure of the gingerbread house – or rather mansion, because Kurt can’t do anything unless it’s full out. He is a perfectionist, and building and decorating gingerbread houses is no exception. So when Kurt started swearing at the piping bag and brought out his ruler and level to see if the walls were perfectly square, Blaine asked him to put down his tools and take a break. The fun part of actually decorating the structure could wait. 

After Kurt placed down the piping bag and washed his hands, Blaine took it upon himself to woo his husband. “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” had started playing and Blaine just couldn’t help himself. “Dance with me, Kurt. You know this one’s my favourite.” They came together, arms around each other, and danced to three Christmas songs before deciding to return to the task at hand. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Kurt praises from his spot in Blaine’s lap. “I needed the break.” 

“I know,” Blaine says as he wraps his arms round Kurt’s torso. “You were starting to take it out on the icing, and that would have only ended up in a huge mess for me to clean.” 

Kurt laughs. “I don’t disagree.” 

“The house looks perfect, Kurt. The walls are sturdy, your piping is precise, and the roof forms a perfect peak. Can we move on to decorating it now?” 

“You’re biased, pet. I know it’s not my best work, but fine. We have a lot of decorating to do and I want to be done before dinner.” Kurt presses his forehead to Blaine’s. “I have plans for you after dinner.” 

“Ohh,” Blaine breathes. “Let's be quick like bunnies so we can then fuck like rabbits.” 

Kurt laughs, throwing his had back and then slips off Blaine’s lap with another twirl and moves across the kitchen to start organizing the candy and the smaller piping bags filled with coloured icing. While he is occupied, Blaine’s attention focuses on the gingerbread house that Kurt built, and his mind drifts. 

He thinks about the house itself. It’s strong and stable, and from the outside, it looks perfect. The gingerbread is smooth and has a wonderful colour, and there is even a bit of flair in the “stained glass” windows, which Kurt made by mixing and melting crushed Lifesavers. The house looks great. The house looks normal. The house looks exactly like what it is – a house. Blaine can’t help but compare it to his own life. He thinks back to the time he was a child and young teenager… in hindsight, he knows his parents’ house had felt similar to how the undecorated gingerbread house looks. From the outside, their house was perfect, with its expensive and modern exterior (as well as interior), and it was probably easy for people to assume that a wonderful close-knit family lived inside. Blaine’s family wasn’t terrible. His father, although he found it tough to come to terms with Blaine’s sexuality, was well respected and provided for his family. He was there for the important parts of his sons’ lives. Blaine’s mother was loving and nurturing when he was younger, but as he grew older, she withdrew, spending most of her time socializing with friends or traveling with his father on his many business trips. By the time Blaine was old enough to stay home alone, his brother was living in a different state and his parents were in the habit of traveling often. Blaine found himself home alone a lot of the time. He never wanted for anything, and he was never in danger, but his family wasn’t a home, it was just a house. 

Then he met Kurt. 

“Blaine? Are you alright?” 

Blaine blinks away the memories and focuses on Kurt’s concerned face. 

“You were far away just now, pet.” 

“I’m sorry,” Blaine sighs. “I was just thinking.” 

“Care to share?” Kurt asks as he places the tray of candy to the side. 

Blaine stands and moves to the house. “I was just thinking about this house.” 

“I knew it was lopsided,” Kurt groans and reaches for his level. 

“No, no, honey, it’s perfectly straight, and strong, and sound. But I think that’s the point.” Blaine takes the piping bag with white icing and starts piping scalloped shingles on the roof. “When I was growing up, I never felt like I had a close family. I mean, I didn’t really know it then, but sometimes it just didn’t feel right. It felt empty, or like something was missing.” 

Kurt sits quietly at the counter, all his attention on Blaine. 

“I know my parents and Cooper love me, but growing up, I realize now, I kind of felt like my family was encompassed in how our house looked or what my parents’ friends saw when they looked at us from the outside.” Blaine picks up hard candy and begins to create the cobble-stoned path. “It was like living in this undecorated gingerbread house. I never really knew what family truly was, Kurt. I missed out on all of that; I didn’t have a real family until… I met you.” 

“Blaine, baby...” Kurt gets up and takes Blaine into his arms. 

Blaine looks at him with moist eyes. “It wasn’t until I was invited to the first Hummel-Hudson Friday night dinner that I knew what family was. From the moment I arrived, your dad greeted me warmer than my own father ever did. I mean, he was scary in his own way, but he hugged me, Kurt. And Carole, she is such a saint. She made me feel like I was her own son. Even Finn made me feel like I was part of the family. He was my brother, too.” Blaine places his palm on the side of Kurt’s neck, his thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “You didn’t just have a house, Kurt, you had a home. Your family made your house your home. And I am so lucky that I get to be a part of that. Honey, you have given me a family. You _are_ my family.” 

Kurt leans down to press his lips to Blaine’s and draws him even closer. He trails a few kisses along Blaine’s cheek and to his ear, and whispers, “And you’re mine, sweetheart. You are my family. You are my everything.” 

“I don’t even know if I’ve ever thanked you for it,” Blaine continues. 

“Thanked me?” Kurt looks down into his eyes and smiles. “My sweet submissive, you never, ever, _ever_ need to thank me for loving you. It would be like thanking me for breathing.” 

“Well, that, too. Thank you for breathing. I like you better when you have oxygen in your lungs.” 

Kurt laughs and kisses Blaine again. “I would say the same about you, but that is not always true,” Kurt says with a wink. 

“Oh,” Blaine blushes and looks up adoringly at his dominant. 

“I’m sorry that you were alone when you were growing up. I sometimes felt that way too, but not for the same reasons you did. I wish your parents accepted you and paid you the attention you deserve.” 

Blaine shrugs. “It is what it is. It’s just sometimes it hits me – the contrast between my family life pre Kurt Hummel, and post Kurt Hummel.” 

Kurt smiles and says, “I am so grateful I met you, too, because you do the same for me. I may have had an amazing mother, and we both know Burt Hummel is the greatest dad in the world, but sweetheart, you have taught me so much about love, not just family love but real, true, love.” 

Hearing Kurt’s words makes Blaine take a big breath because his emotions are on the verge of running away from him. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Kurt says and pecks his nose. “Having you in my life, as my husband, as my submissive, is like having a wonderfully sweet, spicy, delicious, decorated, gingerbread house all year ‘round.” 

Blaine giggles and presses his face into Kurt’s shoulder. 

“Now pet, as much as I’d love to stand here and hug you all night - and trust me, I would - we need to finish decorating this house, because when we’re done, it will be your turn.” 

“Mine? Am I decorating the gingerbread men?” 

“Oh, no, sweetheart, I am going to be decorating my very own special gingerbread man tonight… namely, you,” Kurt tells him and bops his nose. 

Blaine’s eyes go wide as the realization hits and, suddenly, a dozen images flash though his mind of himself naked, bound, and decorated with icing and candy. He moans quietly and nods softly, whispering, “Ok, let’s get to work!”

 


	9. Incident

 

Kurt should have tried it ages ago. He’s not sure what took so long, but now that he’s had a taste of it, he doesn’t think he will ever give it up. He has orchestrated Blaine into many different positions before and thinking about all of them now would just spur Kurt on, but he has never had Blaine like this. 

“Blaine, I’m never letting you down,” Kurt grunts and thrusts his hips, just as Blaine is on the downward swing. 

Blaine groans through the gag in his mouth, which happens to be Kurt’s underwear. 

“Unless you drop your ball, I’m not, slut. I’m not releasing you. Your ass feels too good. I love fucking you this way,” Kurt says, gasping out the words. 

Blaine’s hand squeezes the ball. It’s clear to Kurt that Blaine has no intention of dropping it, and therefore, no intention of safe-wording. 

“You like this, too, don’t you, slut? You love being bound like this, swinging back onto my cock as I fuck you.” 

“Gmmhh,” Blaine grunts. Blaine is bound into a compact ball and suspended, with his thighs slightly spread – just enough so that Kurt can fit between them. 

Kurt used the black silk rope to practice his Shibari technique; he encased Blaine’s arms behind his back, elbow to elbow, and wrapped the remaining lead of rope around his torso, securing it all with a myriad of small knots. He bent Blaine’s legs and bound each thigh to each calf. Kurt then attached Blaine to a pulley system of hooks in the ceiling, suspending him face down from the anchor knots at his shoulder blades, tailbone, and thighs. Kurt placed the ball into Blaine’s hand, gagged him, then adjusted the pulleys so Blaine’s head was slightly higher than his hips, and so that he was at the perfect height for Kurt to easily fuck into. 

“That’s right, grunt for me again, slut,” Kurt says as he swings Blaine out then back and onto his piercing cock. “I’m going to fuck you like this all night.” 

Blaine grunts repeatedly, in tandem with each penetrative stab of Kurt’s cock. He is breathing hard through his nose, there is sweat glinting off his skin, and Kurt’s underwear is soaked through with saliva. The exposed curves of his body are beautifully displayed beneath the ropes, like a canvas for Kurt’s work. Every part of Blaine is bound, except for his cock and balls. Kurt left them free so that they would sway back and forth like a pendulum, causing them to slap against his abdomen for added stimulation. 

“Mmmggm, grrmhh…” 

“So good,” Kurt pants. His hands grip Blaine’s hips and hold him steady, pumping into him hard and quickly. After a few more thrusts of his hips, Kurt sends him to swing again, fingers sliding down Blaine’s legs, keeping him centered so that when Blaine veers backward, he is impaled onto Kurt’s cock again. “Fuck, yes, pet. I’m going to come soon. Where do you want it – in your gaping asshole, on your pretty face, or down that hot slick throat of yours?” 

Blaine tries to answer but it comes out in a broken, muffled whine. His fist squeezes the ball hard, his eyes close, and his body begins to shake. Kurt recognizes it as a sign that Blaine is close to coming, too. 

“Not yet, slut, I need to come first, and if you take it like a good boy, you’ll get your reward. But you have to wait, and since you haven’t answered me, I will choose where you get it.” 

Blaine bends his ankles back and forth so that his feet paddle in mid-air. It’s the smallest movement, but the only one he can manage in the state he’s in. Kurt swings him again, and the precome flies off Blaine’s tip and lands beside the existing droplets beneath. Kurt fucks him hard, letting Blaine’s momentum be the power behind each penetration. Kurt’s feet are planted sturdily on the floor so that he can take force of it, so that it is as stiff and unforgiving for Blaine as possible. Kurt’s hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat; he’s so close now that his balls ache, and he feels a rush of pressure rushing down his cock. 

“Here I come, pet. Oh God, yes, fuck, Blaine…” 

Kurt empties into Blaine so powerfully that he becomes dizzy with it. His come shoots into Blaine’s ass and fills it up so completely that it begins to dribble out before Kurt is even finished coming. Kurt’s hands squeeze Blaine’s hips and ass hard enough that it will leave bruises. He takes in harsh breaths and bends over in his exhaustion, pressing his forehead to the knots along Blaine’s bound arms. 

“Holy sh…” 

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! 

Kurt lifts his head, acknowledging the sound coming from the front door. He doesn’t move, but whispers to Blaine, “Whoever that is can come back later.” 

Neither he nor Blaine is expecting company, and they are in no position or mood to have impromptu guests. Kurt ignores the interruption and kisses the sliver of skin on Blaine’s back. “Blaine, you are so good like this. I think I’m addicted.” 

Blaine moans and turns his head, peering back at Kurt. Kurt sees the desperate pleas in his lust-blown eyes, and notices the way Blaine is clenching and biting hard on the gag in his mouth. 

“I know my love, it’s your turn to come,” Kurt soothes and takes Blaine’s stiff dangling cock in hand. 

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! 

“Kurt, I know you’re in there, I can hear noises,” Burt’s voice booms through the door. 

Kurt goes stiff – and definitely not in the good way. 

“Surprise,” Carole’s less booming, but equally as eager, voice filters through, “We decided on a quick visit before leaving for our cruise.” 

“Shit,” Kurt hisses. “Shit, shit, shit.” 

Blaine reminds him not-so-gently, that he is still hard, gagged, bound, suspended, and filled with come by squirming against his bindings and moaning loudly. 

“Shhh, damn it Blaine,” Kurt whispers as he’s hopping on one leg trying to put on his pants. “My dad’s at the door. Fuck.” 

Blaine struggles, and then Kurt remembers that Blaine can do nothing to help the situation. He tugs his underwear from Blaine’s mouth. Immediately Blaine pants. “Kurt! Burt and Carole!” 

“Hush, baby.” Kurt lowers the pulley until Blaine is lying on his side on the floor, and then unties him enough so that he can use his arms. “Help me with the rest, pet.” 

“KURT?” Burt calls through the door. “I know you’re home, are you ok?" 

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! 

“You go,” Blaine says, as he’s already tugging at the knots on his chest. 

“I can’t just go and leave you here,” Kurt paces trying to find his shirt. 

“You have to. Burt and Carole are _right_ outside the door!” 

Kurt puts on his shirt and runs his fingers through his hair, hastily. “But you haven’t come and what about your after care? You have bruises…” 

Blaine reaches up to tug Kurt’s hand and pull him down so that he’s kneeling. “This part of our relationship has always been for just you and me alone,” Blaine says as he holds Kurt’s face for emphasis. “I want it to remain that way. If you don’t go now they will think something is very wrong, and I wouldn’t want to see your dad bust down our door. I’m fine, Kurt. There’s nothing that kills a hard-on faster than hearing your father in law’s voice. I’ll tidy up as best as I can then go shower.” 

“KURT? SON? DON’T MAKE ME BUST DOWN THIS DOOR.” 

“Shit!” Kurt says again. “Ok, my inner dom is screaming at me to not leave you alone, but you’re right. I need to deal with him before he gets more riled up.” 

“Go. Stall while I shower. You’ll come up with something.” 

Kurt kisses Blaine quickly then gets up to go open the door for his parents while Blaine tries to figure out how to undo the webbing of rope as quickly as he can.

 

+

 

Burt is sitting in Kurt and Blaine’s living room in the chair that has always been reserved just for him. Carole is on the love seat, while Kurt is in the kitchen preparing some decaffeinated green tea. 

When Kurt had opened the door for them, their faces were full of concern, but once Kurt gave a plausible (in his mind) story, their concern turned to happiness at seeing their son. Kurt let them in with hugs and kisses. 

Now, while Kurt pours the boiling water into the teapot, half of his attention is across the room on his parents, and the other half is thinking about his submissive, who he just left all alone after a pretty rough scene. 

“So how long has Blaine been into yoga?” Burt asks. 

“For a while,” Kurt says, “but he’s been doing a lot more lately. It helps him relax.” He sets down the tray on the coffee table and sits ramrod straight beside Carole. 

“And he drinks tea while doing it?” Burt asks. “That doesn’t sound very relaxing, having to worry about spilling it everywhere.” 

“It’s a yoga thing,” Kurt says, and distracts himself with pouring tea. 

Carole takes her mug immediately and brings it to her lips, which are upturned into a grin while she tries to blows at the steaming liquid. “Are you sure Blaine’s okay? Should you go check on him to make sure he didn’t burn himself badly?” She says. 

“Oh,” Kurt says flustered, “Umm, he’s fine. He should be out of the shower soon.” 

Burt takes a careful sip of his tea. “Were you doing yoga with him? You’re usually not looking so…” 

“Rumpled?” Carole supplies. 

Kurt groans internally. Why did he think Blaine spilling tea all over himself while doing yoga was a good story?  He should have kept it simple and said Blaine was napping, but Kurt panicked. Kurt grabs his own mug, so that he has something to do with his hands. He is worried about Blaine’s pretty abrupt drop out of subspace, and he hopes that he got out of the ropes without hurting himself. Just when Kurt has worried himself into taking Carole’s suggestion and checking on his submissive, Blaine walks out with damp hair, looking deliciously clean and soft in grey sweats and a navy turtleneck. 

“Hey Burt! Hi Carole!” Blaine says behind the sunniest of smiles. “What a nice surprise. We weren’t expecting you until after you returned from your Christmas cruise.” Blaine moves in to hug Carole first and kiss her cheek, then hugs Burt, clapping him gently on the back. 

“Hi honey,” Carole says giving him a wink. 

“Hey bud. I’m glad you could join us. Everything ok?” 

Blaine sits beside Kurt. Kurt immediately moves closer until their thighs are touching and places an arm around his waist. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that,” Blaine says. When you knocked I was just getting up from a nap.” 

All the blood drains from Kurt’s already pale face. 

Burt eyes Kurt suspiciously and then looks at Blaine with a raised brow. “What the hell is going…” 

“Burt,” Carole says jumping up. “I just remembered I left my medication in the car.” 

“But…” 

“I need it now, Burt. I need to take it now. Could you be a dear and get it for me?” 

“I … yeah,” Burt agrees, putting on his cap and moving towards the door. “I’ll be right back.” 

When the door closes, Carole looks at both Kurt and Blaine with a determined look on her face. “Look boys, I’m just going to come out and say it. I know you were having sex. And if Burt hadn’t convinced himself years ago that all you do is hold hands and kiss, he would know it, too.”                                             

Kurt and Blaine are stunned into silence and can only stare at Carole. 

Carole stares right back with a mirthful look on her face. When she doesn’t get a response, she laughs and elaborates. “Oh come on. I raised Finn, remember? I’m not in denial like your father is. I know you two were getting it on. Kurt you look absolutely rumpled. I haven’t seen your hair look that unkempt since Whitney Houston died. And Blaine, you never wear turtle necks, and you are most definitely walking funny.” 

Blaine blushes and presses his face to Kurt’s shoulder. “Oh God, this isn’t happening.” 

Kurt is still silent and staring at Carole with owlish eyes. Despite his embarrassment, he is grateful that Carole thinks they were only having sex. He doesn’t know if Blaine would live through it if Carole knew about their lifestyle. 

Carole sits back down beside them and places her hand on Kurt’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. “When Burt asks again, the story is Blaine fell asleep doing yoga and when he woke up from the knocking, he spilled his tea and had to shower.” 

“He’s not going to believe that,” Kurt says. 

“He will, because thinking the alternative will scar him for life.” 

“Oh God,” Blaine says again. 

Kurt places his hand on Blaine’s knee. The situation is crazy, but he is still the dominant. He needs to make sure Blaine is ok. “Sweetheart, it’s ok. Carole is right. He doesn’t know.” 

Blaine looks into Kurt’s eyes. That seems to be enough to anchor him, at least for now. “Ok,” he says. 

Just then, Burt opens the door and Carole goes to him. Kurt takes the opportunity to whisper into Blaine’s ear. “I’m sorry they showed up unexpectedly. Hopefully it was awkward enough for them that this will be an isolated incident, and they’ll call ahead next time." 

“I hope so,” Blaine agrees. 

“Are you okay? Was it too sudden of a drop? Are your bruises…” 

“Kurt,” Blaine says quietly, “Aside from being mortified that Carole knows about our sex life, I’m completely fine.” 

“She knows we have sex. Everyone we know, aside from my dad, knows that. But no one knows the rest. That still remains just for us.” 

Blaine smiles and kisses Kurt’s cheek quickly. 

“So boys,” Burt booms. “What’s an old man gotta do to get his boys to invite him out to his favourite New York pizza place?” 

“Dad, your heart!”

 

+

 

Later, after Burt has had his fill of pizza and they’ve all returned to the apartment, Kurt makes up the spare room for his parents and they say an early good night with promises of a full day of sightseeing tomorrow. Finally, Kurt gets some alone time with Blaine. He immediately strips him so that he can have a close look at his body. He inspects the chafe markings that the rope made along Blaine’s thighs, and the finger-shaped bruises along his hips. “They are fine, sweetheart. They look beautiful on you, actually. Do they hurt?” 

Blaine arranges himself under the covers and lifts them up so Kurt can join him. “They make me feel owned.” 

Kurt slips in and presses close to him. “You are.” 

Blaine turns off the light and they tangle up in each other as they settle down to sleep. As he’s drifting, Kurt says, “I’m sorry that you didn’t get your release, baby.” 

“Mmm, maybe you could make it up to me tomorrow morning before anyone else is awake,” Blaine says with hope in his voice. 

“My dad wakes up at five.” 

“Scratch that.” 

“Besides, no more sex until my parents leave.” 

Blaine pouts, but his pout is kissed away by Kurt’s sweet lips. They cuddle in deeper, and soon they’re both asleep and dreaming of ropes, suspension, and each other.

 


	10. Light

 

It is Monday morning. Typically, Kurt and Blaine would be moving around each other in a well-practiced dance of getting dressed, eating breakfast, and rushing off to work. Today is different though. Blaine isn’t scheduled at the clinic because today he sees his patients at the children’s hospital, and doesn’t have to check in until just after lunch. Kurt, who usually goes into his studio early to organize everything for the week, left the task to one of his emerging designers, knowing that Blaine would be at home in the morning. Kurt was hoping that they would be able to spend the morning in bed together, but Blaine was up at the crack of dawn and has been situated in the loveseat with his coffee reading a medical journal; he did the same yesterday. Blaine spent Sunday, in its entirety, studying in his own little world, except for the two yoga classes Kurt insisted he attend. 

After kissing Blaine good morning (thoroughly), Kurt moves to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the both of them. While the oatmeal simmers, Kurt watches Blaine from across the apartment. Blaine has been uncharacteristically silent. His features are serious, and his attention is on nothing but the journal. Kurt recognizes that Blaine can be focused and determined in nature, but he also knows that, this time, something is bothering him. 

The Blaine that Kurt is watching is Dr. Blaine Anderson-Hummel, there is no doubt about that. He is looking at the man who has dedicated so much of his time, money, and efforts to study medicine, simply because he wants to help people. He took an oath to that effect, and Kurt is so very proud of him. His chosen career has made Blaine a better man – not because of any sort of status or income, but because he loves what he does. He genuinely cares for people and for the medical profession as a whole. 

Kurt realizes, though, that becoming a doctor has also made Blaine a more staid man. Most times, he is the same old bouncy, outgoing Blaine Warbler, but at times he becomes more restrained and withdrawn. When that happens, Kurt lets him be, knowing that Blaine needs to be this way to best serve his patients and to deal with all the illness and injustices he sees at work sometimes – especially because most of his patients are children. But Kurt will only let it go on for so long, knowing that it’s in Blaine’s best interest for Kurt to bring him back from that place. 

Kurt is Blaine’s biggest fan. He tells Blaine every day that he is proud of the man he is and the man he’s become – not just within their relationship, but in his professional life, too.  Sometimes though, Kurt misses Blaine Warbler – the boy who took his breath away with his rendition of Teenage Dream, the boy who saw nothing wrong with serenading a crush in the middle of a Gap in small-town Ohio, the boy who assembled rival show-choirs together to help him sing and pontificate his marriage proposal. Kurt misses the Blaine who would do anything to be on a stage, to perform, to make art. 

Kurt sometimes nudges Blaine and gives him reminders by taking him out to Karaoke nights, singing duets by their piano, enrolling them in a ballroom dancing class, and anything else that will inspire Blaine and get his inner performer to come out and play. 

Now that Blaine is settling into his role as a physician, Kurt thinks it’s time to invest in something more permanent, something that can easily be accessed and used to inspire Dr. Anderson-Hummel to set down that proverbial stethoscope and give into his urges of performing again – not permanently, of course, but once in a while. 

Kurt quickly decides that he needs to install a spotlight in the playroom.

 

+

 

A few days later, Blaine comes in the door and, before he can take off his jacket, or even call out a greeting to his husband, Kurt pounces on him and says, “I have a surprise for you.” 

“Ooo, I love surprises. What’s the occasion?” 

Kurt unbuttons Blaine’s pea coat and kisses his lips softly. “You.” 

“Me?” 

“Yes, Blaine Warbler, you are the very special occasion. I want to celebrate you.” Kurt hangs up the jacket while Blaine toes off his boots and takes off his scarf. “Meet me in the playroom… naked.” 

“Oh! It’s that kind of surprise?” 

“The very best kind,” Kurt winks. 

Blaine bee-lines it to the playroom, leaving a trail of scattered clothes in his wake (which Kurt will, no doubt, make him pick up later). 

“A spotlight, Sir? You had a spotlight installed?” Blaine says, as he looks up at the big contraption. 

“Yes,” Kurt says excitedly. “And I got some gels too, red and green. They’re pretty festive, don’t you think?”

Blaine shakes his head and laughs. “Only you would do this.” 

“Oh, you love it.” 

“I do. I really do.” 

“Good, because you’re going to be under the spotlight for a while, pet.” 

“Mmm…” 

“Yes. I’ve decided that I miss my Blaine Warbler. I miss your impromptu performances and your grand gestures in song.” 

“You want me to stand here naked beneath the spotlight and sing for you?” 

“Yes and no.” 

Blaine bites his lip with the knowledge of how Kurt’s mind works. 

“Yes, you will be naked beneath the spotlight. And yes, you will be singing. But you will be doing it while kneeling… and masturbating.” 

“Oh my God.” 

Kurt flops down into the armchair and flicks the switch to the spotlight, which has already been outfitted with the red gel filter. “Do you take requests?” 

Blaine laughs. “Of course.” 

“Oh good,” Kurt says playfully, and gets comfortable. “In that case, I would like to hear ‘I Touch Myself’ by The DiVinyls.” 

Blaine blushes and kneels. “Your wish is my command, Sir.” 

“Of course it is. You may begin,” Kurt instructs and tosses a bottle of lube at Blaine. 

Blaine catches it swiftly and settles into his kneel with his sit bones resting on his heels, and his thighs spread wide. He squirts some lube onto his half erect cock and takes himself in hand. 

Kurt watches him like a hawk. Blaine looks gorgeous bathed in red light. His skin is flawless except for the fading bruises along his hips, and some chafing marks circling his biceps and thighs, remnants of days prior. 

“When I dream of you, I dream of you like this - naked, kneeling, and performing for me,” Kurt tells him. 

Blaine raises his head and when his hazel gaze make contact with Kurt’s blues, Kurt’s heart feels like it’s going to explode. “You are so beautiful, Blaine; and you’re all mine.” 

“Always,” Blaine murmurs and begins to stroke, his fingers loose, as his wrist pumps shallowly. 

“That’s my good boy. Start off slow. I want to see a show, a performance.” 

Blaine closes his eyes and begins to hum. Kurt realizes that he’s reminding himself of the song’s melody and readying his voice. As his humming intensifies, so does the grip around his cock. Kurt’s own cock twitches beneath the sweatpants he’s wearing, and he knows that soon he will be stroking along to Blaine’s melody too. 

After a few minutes of beautiful humming, Kurt hears the first words of the song, and sees Blaine open his eyes. It’s a beautiful sound (and sight), and Kurt is so happy that he came up with the idea of having the spotlight installed. Under the spotlight, Blaine soars free. He always has, and he always will. 

 _“_ _I love myself, I want you to love me_  
_When I feel down, I want you above me_  
 _I search myself, I want you to find me_  
 _I forget myself, I want you to remind me…”_

Kurt is mesmerized as he listens to Blaine’s tenor voice, and watches him fist himself. He wants to encourage, knowing how much Blaine loves praise, but he doesn’t dare interrupt his singing submissive. Instead, he shows Blaine how much he’s enjoying the show by never taking his eyes off of him.

 _“I don't want anybody else_  
_When I think about you, I touch myself_  
 _Ooh, I don't want anybody else_  
 _Oh no, oh no, oh no_

 _“You're the one who makes me come runnin'_  
_You're the sun who makes me shine_  
 _When you're around, I'm always laughin'_  
 _I want to make you mine…”_

 _I am yours_ , Kurt thinks. He is Blaine’s in every way. If Blaine told him tomorrow that he no longer wanted to live the BDSM lifestyle, Kurt would be a little sad, but it wouldn’t take long for him to get over it, because Blaine would still be his husband, his love, his best friend. Blaine would still be his, and he would still belong to Blaine.

 _“I close my eyes and see you before me_  
_Think I would die if you were to ignore me_  
 _A fool could see just how much I adore you_  
 _I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you…”_

As Blaine sings those words, Kurt hears a stutter in his voice. He knows that Blaine has taken that line to heart. Blaine would (and does) get down on his knees, and do anything for him because he is devoted, and because he trusts Kurt, loves Kurt. And Kurt is consumed by how lucky he is to have found such a beautiful boy and that he agreed to be his husband, his everything. 

 _“I don't want anybody else_  
_When I think about you, I touch myself_  
 _Ooh, I don't want anybody else_  
 _Oh no, oh no, oh no_

 _“I love myself, I want you to love me_  
_When I feel down, I want you above me_  
 _I search myself, I want you to find me_  
 _I forget myself, I want you to remind me…”_

Kurt palms at his sweats as he watches Blaine. Blaine’s fist has been stroking in time with the song’s tempo, and Kurt can see that it’s hard for Blaine to not speed up. He sees how needy his submissive is by the way his hips sometimes buck in between verses, and by the low whine that trails the end of each line.

 _“I don't want anybody else_  
_When I think about you, I touch myself_  
 _Ooh, I don't want anybody else_  
 _Oh no, oh no, oh no_

 _“I want you_  
_I don't want anybody else_  
 _When I think about you, I touch myself_  
 _Ooh ooh ooh ooh ah ah ah ah oh ah…”_

“Oh fuck,” Blaine blurts, all of a sudden, and moans, “Sirrr…”

“Keep singing, sweetheart,” Kurt encourages. “You sound so good, and you look exquisite. The sound of your voice, and the way your fist is working your cock for me is going to make me come, beautiful.”

 _“I don't want anybody else_  
_When I think about you, I touch myself_  
 _Ooh, I don't want anybody else_  
 _When I think about you, I touch myself…”_

“Please…” Blaine begs and takes in deep breaths as his head tilts back and his eyes close tight. His hips are swiveling and pumping into his fist.

Kurt watches Blaine masturbate lewdly, the red spotlight accentuating his stretched throat, and Kurt cannot help but slip his hand into his own pants. His cock is hard and leaking, and he wants nothing more than to come. “Keep going,” he rasps out. “Sing, pet.”

_“I touch myself_

_(I don't want)_

_I touch myself_

_(anybody else)_

_I touch myself…”_

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck, I need… please, Sir.” Blaine’s fist is tight, and his free hand is roaming his own chest, desperately flicking at his own nipples.

“Not yet, baby boy, the show isn’t over. Keep going.”

 _“(when I think about you)_  
_I touch myself_  
 _I touch myself_

_(I don't want)  
I touch myself _

_(anybody else)  
I touch myself _

_(when I think about you)  
I honestly do_

_I touch myself_

_(I don't want)  
I touch myself _

_(anybody else)  
I touch myself _

_(when I think about you)  
I honestly do_

_I touch myself  
I touch myself.”_ 

Blaine is babbling more than singing now, repeating “I touch myself” to the rhythm of his fist. He is stroking fast and thoroughly from root to tip, while his hips rotate and fuck into his grip. “Please, I touch myself, when I think about you, please, please, please…” 

Suddenly, Kurt rises and stands over him. Blaine opens his eyes as the spotlight is blocked and his surroundings darken. Kurt is leaning over, stroking his long, beautiful cock, a red halo outlining him from above. Blaine whines and leans forward, his mouth opening, begging, pleading. 

Kurt gives it to him with one fist threaded through his curls and one palm clutching his cheek, guiding, caressing. Kurt’s hips pump as he fucks deeply into Blaine’s mouth, cutting off any melody that still lingers, as well as any pleas that intended to come out. Blaine breathes harshly through his nose as Kurt briefly denies him oxygen. “You… are… so… fucking… sexy… when… you… perform… for… me,” Kurt pants. His breath is laboured, his fist is strong, and his thighs are powerful as they whip forward, feeding Blaine. 

Blaine’s fist stops stroking; he squeezes around his cock, stopping any orgasm from spilling. His ass lifts off his heels with each one of Kurt’s tugs to his hair as he’s maneuvered to Kurt’s liking. Blaine gags violently while his Adam’s apple is being stroked from the inside. Kurt’s roughness makes tears spill and roll down his cheeks, and his feet paddle the floor behind him. 

“Ohh, oh, oh, oh, Blaine…” Kurt shouts and slides his cock out of Blaine’s mouth quickly, shooting hot thick come onto Blaine’s face. Blaine coughs and spurts, but at the same time, he tries to slurp at any seed he can. Kurt helps him by using his thick head to smear it around, collect it, and shove it back into Blaine’s mouth. Once he’s in, and Blaine’s tongue laves along his pulsating cock, Kurt gives the command. “Come for me, my beautiful Warbler.” 

It only takes a couple more strokes before Blaine’s come shoots up out of him, splattering all over Kurt’s thighs. Blaine’s voice is muffled, but Kurt can feel the vibration thrumming along his spent cock, as Blaine sings his orgasm. “ _I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you…”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the song that Kurt requested: [I Touch Myself by Divinyls](https://youtu.be/wv-34w8kGPM)


	11. Kidnap

 

Blaine wraps his scarf tighter around himself and watches as the Zamboni floods the ice, leaving it smooth and slick in its wake. Blaine pushes the cuff of his glove down and looks at his wristwatch. The rink officially opens in an hour, and the festivities will begin soon after that. 

Every winter when Bryant Park Winter Village and ice rink launches its official opening, Blaine has taken Kurt on a commemorative ice skating date, complete with Christmas carols, hot chocolate and warm kisses. It’s been tradition ever since Blaine had tagged along with Burt to New York City in hopes of winning back Kurt’s heart. If Blaine has anything to say about it, their tradition will continue this year. 

Kurt broke the news to him a couple days ago. This year, Kurt is working on a special project and is inundated with extra work and tight deadlines. To make matters worse, he is one seamstress short as she decided to elope at the last minute, and one of his senior designers is out sick with pneumonia; Kurt just won’t be able to get away. Blaine knows that Kurt is really disappointed, despite Blaine’s promise to take him later in the month instead, when things slow down a bit. Blaine doesn’t like to see Kurt sad, and he too had been disappointed at the news, but Blaine isn’t defeated so easily. He decided to take matters into his own hands, and not take no for an answer. 

It’s true that Kurt may be upset with him for interfering with his work schedule, but Blaine is willing to take the chance. He doesn’t know anything about the fashion industry, but he knows his friends, and he knows Kurt’s team. They are the best of the best, and if Kurt trusts them with his reputation and his company, then Blaine can trust them with this. 

Just as Blaine looks at his watch again, hoping that she won’t be late, he hears her voice. 

“Hey, Blainey Days!” 

Blaine turns to see his old friend Tina walking towards him, and runs to envelop her into a hug. “Tina! It’s been too long. It’s really nice to see you, and thank you so much for doing this.” 

“It’s my pleasure,” she says and kisses his cheek. “It feels good to get out of the house. Being on maternity leave is amazing and wonderful, but it can also cause cabin fever. It will be nice get back into working, even if it’s just for a day.” 

“I’m sorry to take you away from little Maya, but I’m so glad you could help us out. I don’t think Kurt would trust anyone else, but since you’re in the industry and you’ve more than proven yourself as a seamstress making all the New Directions’ costumes, I think he’ll be fine with it.” 

“It would be an honour to work on a Hummel project,” she says, and easily slinks her arm through Blaine’s. 

They walk in the direction of Kurt’s studio, catching up on each other’s lives. Tina, who finally convinced Mike to marry her three years ago, graduated from fashion school as well, and has been working behind the scenes at a small fashion magazine in the city. When their first child was born she took some time off to be home with her. She and Mike have gone out a few times with Kurt and Blaine, but with their busy lives they don’t see each other as often as they’d like. Blaine hopes that it will be a pleasant surprise for Kurt to see Tina, and that he will be okay with her taking over some sewing for the day. It will also help that Blaine spoke to each of Kurt’s team in advance, secretly calling them while Kurt was out getting groceries, and asked them to take care of things for the day when he arrives to collect Kurt. 

“Here we are,” Blaine says. “You ready?” 

“Tina Cohen-Chang was born ready.”

 

+

 

“Lauren, do you have those sketches I asked for?” 

“Right here.” 

“Oh, that was fast, thank you,” Kurt says as he inspects the work. “It looks good, but the buttons are wrong; space them out a bit more and make them bolder, then I want to see a sample. Samantha is bogged down, so when you’re done, put it in the queue and we’ll go from there. I’ll jump onto a machine tonight if I have to.” 

“Kurt, your husband is here,” Lauren says with a smile. 

“What?” Kurt turns to see Blaine and Tina; the confusion on his face is priceless. “Blaine, Tina? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” 

Kurt moves in to hug Tina and kiss her cheek. Once they break apart, Lauren takes her by the hand and leads her to the coffee area. 

“Everything is fine,” Blaine says taking Kurt’s hand. “May I speak with you in private for a moment?” 

“Blaine, what’s going on?” Kurt inquires as he guides Blaine in to his small office and closes the door. 

“I am here to kidnap you,” Blaine announces. 

“What?” 

“The rink opens today, Kurt…” 

“Blaine, sweetheart, we discussed this. I just can’t get away. I’m short staffed and running behind schedule.” 

“I talked to Lauren and the team,” Blaine states. “They are all on board with working overtime. You won’t even have to pay them extra, although I know you will.” 

“Poor Samantha has already been working so much overtime, Blaine, I can’t ask her to do more.” 

“No, I know, that’s why I brought Tina.” 

“What?” 

“But she… where’s Maya?” 

“At home with Mike. Listen,” Blaine takes Kurt’s hand. “I know this is not what you had planned for today, and I do know that this project is important, but the team is on board, and Tina is happy to get out of the house and help out with the sewing. You know she’s always been an amazing seamstress, and she does work for Couture.” 

Kurt takes a breath and relaxes for the first time since Blaine arrived, and probably since he walked into the studio this morning. “I know this day is important to you. It is to me, too. Do you really think it will be ok if I take today off? I can’t afford to fall further behind.” 

“It will be more than ok. I will even help you with whatever you need tomorrow. I can cut, pin, run errands…” 

Blaine’s speech is cut off by Kurt’s lips pressing hard against his. “I love you, Blaine.” 

“Mmm. That was the reaction I was hoping to get. So, you’re not mad?” 

“I’m so very mad that when we get home I’m going to spank you into next week,” Kurt whispers, playfully. 

“That sounds so good,” Blaine moans. 

Kurt kisses him again. “Alright, let me get Tina settled and talk with my team, then we can go?” 

Blaine nods. “Ok, but don’t take too long. I don’t want them to run out of hot chocolate. Oh, and this…” Blaine digs into the pocket of his coat and places a small remote control into Kurt’s hand. “I’d say you wouldn’t want to keep me waiting, but I know you would,” Blaine says, cheekily. 

“You… Blaine… now? You’re wearing it now?” 

“Mmhmm,” Blaine confirms with a wiggle of his ass. 

“You minx.” 

Blaine leans up close to Kurt’s ear and whispers, “I stretched myself this morning, just enough for a snug fit. I walked all the way here with it in, and now, it’s in your hands, Sir.” 

Kurt swallows, and his eyes dilate. He opens the door swiftly and claps his hands. “Gather ‘round guys. My husband is kidnapping me for the day…” 

 

+

 

“This was the best idea ever,” Kurt says breathlessly, as he comes to a stop in front of Blaine. 

“Oh, yes,” Blaine says as he tries his hardest to remain upright, and finally accepts the help of the boards to prop himself up. The motion of skating and gliding is long forgotten, as Kurt has used the remote to its full capacity. 

Kurt switches the remote off in his pocket, and Blaine visibly relaxes. “That was ten laps for me,” Kurt says. “Shall I go for 11 or are you ready to skate with me?” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Blaine whines. “I want to, but it … it makes my knees buckle.” 

“I’ll hold you up, pet. Have I ever let you fall before?” 

“Well there was that one time…” 

“Blaine, that doesn’t count. I saw a mouse.” 

Blaine laughs and leans in to kiss him, “You’re adorable.” 

“Mmm, come on, I want you to skate with me. If you do five laps, I’ll buy you hot chocolate.” 

Blaine groans. “What if I don’t want hot chocolate?” 

Kurt eyes him. 

“Ok,” Blaine pouts, “I want hot chocolate. But five laps?” 

“You’re the one who wanted to come skating, so much so that you kidnapped me from work, and devised a whole plan to have my team cover for me,” Kurt whispers in his ear, “and you’re the one who pushed that small vibe into your ass as a way to coax me here. Well, beautiful, it worked – and now you’re paying the price.” 

“Will I at least be allowed to come when we get home?” 

“I believe I promised you a spanking.” 

“Kuurrt.” 

“That’s what naughty boys get, Blaine. They get spanked. And coming will depend on how many laps you do with me. Come on, let’s start with five.” 

Blaine grasps onto Kurt’s hand and follows him, skating around the bend and speeding up a little. When they’re somewhere around center ice, Kurt turns on the vibe again and Blaine’s body jolts. He takes deep breaths as he wills his cock to stay down, thankful he’s wearing a long coat to cover up any tenting that happens. His ass is atingle from the vibration that Kurt has been controlling intermittently. He skated freely, while Blaine just leaned against the boards and let the sensation overcome him - the sensation of being here, on this day, with the man he loves, the man who owns him so completely, yet gives him the freedom to always be himself. 

As they skate around, Blaine’s knees buckle, but Kurt holds him up with one arm clutched around his back. Blaine loves this. He is so grateful for this man, this rink, this city … for the stimulation he feels in his ass, for the promise of hot chocolate and a spanking to warm him up later, and with the knowledge that this will happen again every year for many years to come.                                                  

As White Christmas plays in the background, Kurt turns off the vibration and pulls Blaine into his embrace. They stand at center ice and share a sweet kiss, one that Blaine knows will turn dark and dirty when they get home. Blaine’s stomach quivers, and his cock aches with the thought of it.

 


	12. Language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for the use of the word "whore". Again, Blaine likes it.

 

Blaine wakes to the sound of soft murmurs and to the feeling of Kurt’s grazing lips. He doesn’t move; he doesn’t want to disturb Kurt when he’s like this. He’s soft and gentle and so very loving that it makes Blaine’s heart all aflutter. Blaine closes his eyes against the filtering light of early dawn, and sinks further into the cocoon of blankets and the body that is cradling and holding him from behind. When Kurt begins to whisper along the nape of his neck, Blaine listens. 

“You are such a lovely boy, Blaine.” 

The praise makes Blaine’s heart thunder in his chest. 

“If you only knew the things you do to me, and all the ideas you put into my head. I wish there were more than twenty-four hours in the day, because there are so many things I want to do with you, for you… to you,” Kurt says, and trails kisses along the line of Blaine’s shoulder. 

Blaine wants to respond; he wants to turn around and tell Kurt that he wishes that, too – for more hours in the day, but he bites his lip to remain quiet. Kurt maybe senses this, because, suddenly, his fingers are trailing up Blaine’s arm, along his clavicle, up his throat and finally press to his lips. 

“This mouth is so talented, pet, the things you’re able to do with it - its heat, its wetness, the sounds that emit from it; it drives me wild. When it’s wide open and whining out your desperate pleas, it makes me want to stuff it - with a gag, with my cock, with anything I can find to shove into it.” Kurt presses his fingertips between Blaine’s lips and forces his mouth open. “I know you want to suck them, pet. If you do a good job, I’ll reward you later with something much bigger.” 

Blaine sucks eagerly, his tongue lapping between Kurt’s fingers, and his lips suckling the tender tips. Blaine has quickly gone from feeling snuggley warm in his cocoon to hot and ready to carry out whatever Kurt demands of him. 

“That’s my good boy,” Kurt whispers, and adds two more fingers. “You like that don’t you? You love sucking. And you’ll suck on anything I put into your mouth, won’t you – my fingers, a dildo, my cock?” 

When Blaine whimpers around Kurt’s wet fingers, he feels Kurt’s lips form a grin against his shoulder blade. “That’s right. That’s what you are, my sweet cock-sucking slut. Hmm?” 

Blaine slides his mouth all the way down Kurt’s four fingers and gags when he feels Kurt wiggle them against the back of his throat. He takes a pause, moaning loudly, and then pushes further down until the tip of his tongue is lapping at Kurt’s palm. 

“Mmm, you’re so eager, slut.” Kurt says, as he shoves his hand deeper into Blaine’s stretched mouth. His other arm is pinned between Blaine’s weight and the mattress, but it’s in the right position for him to bend his wrist and reach Blaine’s nipple. “What about this, baby? You like to have your little nipples pinched? Do you like it better soft… or hard?” Kurt asks, and demonstrates by flicking with the pad of his thumb, and then pinching the pebble generously. 

Blaine’s hips thrust forward, his already hard cock smearing precome all over the top sheet. Kurt removes his hand from Blaine’s mouth and slides it down quickly, taking him in hand roughly. “Oh, you delectable slut. You’re already so hard for me, baby, aren’t you? Was it the sucking or the pinching that did it?” Kurt pinches again for good measure, and Blaine can’t help but thrust again, this time into Kurt’s wet fist. 

“Fuck!” Blaine hisses. 

“There’s my boy. I’m not surprised that ‘fuck’ was your first word today,” Kurt teases. “You like to fuck and be fucked, any way you can get it, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Blaine answers, and tilts his head back so that it rests on Kurt’s shoulder. “Yes, yes, yes.” 

“I bet you want to be fucked right now, you sweet, horny thing, don’t you?” Kurt emphasizes his point by rocking his hips and pressing his stiff cock between Blaine’s ass cheeks. 

Blaine moans repeatedly, while he presses his ass back desperately. 

“You squirming boy. You can’t help but fuck forward into my fist then back against my cock. I haven’t even given you permission,” Kurt reminds him. “I should bind you, pet, nice and tight and thoroughly so that you can’t move. What about that? What if I only leave your two holes exposed so that I can fuck them at will?” 

Blaine wants to stay still. He wants to stay quiet, but his dominant’s body is doing sinful things to him, and his voice - the things he’s saying - is driving him wild. So Blaine can’t; he knows that he’s already too far gone. If Kurt wants him still, he’ll have to bind him. If Kurt wants him to be quiet, him he’ll have to gag him.

“Please,” Blaine moans. “I want everything.” 

“Greedy whore,” Kurt says, reverently. 

After a few kisses to the back of his neck, Kurt he releases Blaine’s cock and sits up in their bed, shuffling back so that he’s leaning against the headboard. “Up,” he says to Blaine. “Straddle my thighs and face away from me.” 

Blaine scrambles to obey quickly. He needs whatever Kurt is planning to give him, or deny him. Once he’s situated on his knees with his thighs wide above Kurt’s lap, he notices that Kurt is still and silent, no doubt allowing Blaine to take a readying moment. 

The air in their room is heady with desire. The light from the breaking dawn fills the space with an orange-grey hue, giving it a sensual atmosphere. Blaine’s breath is shallow, his eyes are wide open, the muscles in his thighs are stretched and quaking, and his cock bobs in anticipation. 

“I love you, Blaine,” comes Kurt’s voice, finally. “Everything about you is my kryptonite. I love it when you moan and pant and grunt and scream for me. I love it when you thrust and buck and fuck into midair because you’re so horny for it. I love how you take my fingers, and tongue, and toys, and cock. And, mmm, I especially love it when you take my toy and cock at the same time.” 

Blaine closes his eyes and remembers the night Kurt made him take both. He was sore for well over a week and just when the soreness was easing, Kurt made him take them both again. 

“Please,” Blaine whines. 

“Such an insatiable boy, always horny for it,” Kurt says and trails his fingertips up the insides of Blaine’s thighs, stopping just below his hanging sack. Kurt leans forward slightly and begins the mouth-watering process of biting crescent-shaped marks into the flesh of Blaine’s ass. “I love decorating you, pet. Your body looks so gorgeous when it’s adorned with my markings.” Kurt bites, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to leave a memento. He sucks the flesh that is trapped between his teeth hard, with purpose, wanting to leave small bruises everywhere on Blaine’s body. 

“When I’m done with this beautiful bubble butt, it’s going to be so pretty, slut. And when you sit, which I will ensure you do a lot of, it will ache.” Kurt presses his mouth to Blaine’s skin again and continues biting, while his hands massage Blaine’s legs from knees to hips. 

Blaine is swaying in a state of bliss. He’s swooning from the sweet pain his husband is administering. He lets his head hang down and takes a deep breath, absorbing all the love Kurt is giving him. Blaine’s eyes are half lidded, but open enough for him to notice that his cock is constantly leaking, and there is a dark wet spot on the sheets directly below it. He knows Kurt will make him suck it clean later. The thought makes his groin erupt with heat. 

“God, this hole,” Kurt says, and Blaine feels that Kurt is spreading his ass cheeks apart and giving his pucker a broad, wet kiss. “You have a pretty asshole, baby. It’s so sweetly gathered and such a beautiful dusty pink colour. And inside,” Kurt moans low in his chest and slides two wet fingers into it. “Fuck, inside it’s so very slick and hot and tight. It’s all for me, isn’t it?” 

Blaine whines and whimpers, tilting his head back so that he can recite the words into their bedroom, loudly and clearly. “It’s all for you, Master. Everything is yours.” 

Kurt curls his fingers, hooking Blaine from the inside and tugs backward. Blaine sways but holds his position, his thighs burning now, and his asshole clenching. “That’s right, baby. Clench for me.” 

Blaine clenches, and when he does, Kurt pushes his fingers in and slides them back out. “Is that as tight as you can do, slut? My fingers move easily. Try it again.” Kurt shoves his fingers deeply and Blaine clenches around them. Kurt tugs, dragging his knuckles and fingertips all along Blaine’s tight inner walls until they release with a pop. 

“Again,” Kurt says and shoves back in. 

“Yessss,” Blaine hisses, and clenches. The drag of Kurt’s fingers drive heat straight into his balls, and he can’t get enough. “More please,” he cries, leaning forward so his hands are on his knees, and his ass is better accessible. 

“What a begging whore you are.” 

“Pleasepleaseplease...” 

“Again,” Kurt says, thrusting back in. “If you’re a good slut you might get the dildo later. Would you like that, baby boy? Do you want Master’s big silicone cock in that tight ass of yours?” 

“Al-ways,” Blaine grunts and clenches again. 

“Work for it,” Kurt demands and shoves three fingers in this time. 

“Fuck.” Blaine clenches around them, and Kurt drags them out slowly. 

“Again,” Kurt says, this time slapping the crescent marks on Blaine’s ass before shoving his fingers in. When Blaine clenches, Kurt stills them and instead of dragging, he presses his tongue to Blaine’s stretched pucker and laps eagerly, allowing the saliva to lube him up a bit. Blaine rocks his hips back, and when he does, Kurt pushes his fingers deeper, pressing directly into his prostate. 

“YES, FUCK, YES,” Blaine screams. 

Kurt drags his fingers out slowly, and this time when his fingers pop out, Kurt fists his own straining cock. He holds it up as his arm circles Blaine’s waist and pulls, effectively sitting him down and impaling him onto his cock in one fell swoop. 

“Oh my fuck,” Blaine groans, his body shaking as it’s propped up onto Kurt’s cock. 

“There we go, my baby,” Kurt coos. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Master’s shaft, hmmm? You wanted my cock in your pretty little ass.” 

“Yes, please, please… may I ride?” 

“In a minute, whore, I want to hear you grunt first.” Kurt says and pinches Blaine’s nipples - both of them simultaneously, which sends an electric current down Blaine’s chest and straight into his cock. Kurt pinches hard, counts to five, and then releases them. He repeats this again and again until Blaine is a writhing, grinding, grunting mess. 

“You’re such a slut for this, aren’t you?” 

“Master’s slut,” Blaine grunts. 

“And whore. Nipple whore, ass whore, cock whore,” Kurt recites and tugs on Blaine’s pebbled tips, stretching them out a little. 

“Nipple… whore,” Blaine cries arching his back. “Ass-ass-ass whore, cock wh-ore.” 

Kurt finally releases Blaine’s nipples. They are so hard and peaked, Blaine’s entire chest aches. Kurt uses his hands to press against the insides of Blaine’s thighs, spreading them farther apart and achingly wide. “The wider you’re spread, the fatter your ass looks, slut. It’s such a good view. And, God, you’re so tight.” 

Blaine fists his curls as he stretches out, thighs wide, torso straight. The position makes his entire body shaking. 

“You’re beautiful like this,” Kurt moans, “bitten, bruised, pinched, and propped up on me.” Kurt reaches around and finally takes Blaine’s jutting cock in his fist. 

Blaine cries. 

“Oh, those tears, my baby boy. You know what those tears do to me,” Kurt coos. 

“Yes, yes, yes, Master,” Blaine sobs. The emotion and the desire completely overtake him and Blaine can feel himself finally falling. But Kurt’s command keeps him present, and keeps him aching. 

“Ride me,” he instructs. “I want it hard and fast. And when I come, don’t you dare stop.” 

“Oh my god,” Blaine blurts and begins moving, his knees having to push down hard into the mattress in order to gather leverage in his wide position. His hips roll without reservation on the downward motion. His ass slaps at Kurt’s pelvic bone with each thrust, his tight balls bounce off Kurt’s, and his cock slaps his stomach in rhythm. His ass is deliciously on fire, not only from Kurt’s rough fingers, and from clenching repeatedly, but from Kurt’s piercing rock-hard cock that is jamming directly into his prostate. 

It only takes a few seconds of riding before Blaine breaks down and begins to beg. “Please Master, please, I, I, I… fuck, please, I need, I’m going… ohhhh God, I’m going… to commmme.” 

“Not unless you want to finish off the year with a flogging,” Kurt answers. 

Blaine cries. Tears stream down his cheeks as he holds in his release. It’s down-right painful, but at the same time, it’s so hot that Blaine swoons with it. 

As Blaine begins to sob, Kurt comes. He comes powerfully and abundantly into Blaine’s working ass. And just as he had instructed, Blaine doesn’t stop. He continues to bounce hard and fast, the come squelching out of his ass with every downward motion. “My horny baby,” Kurt grunts as he comes and comes and comes again. “Fuck, yes, Blaine, God, I love you.” 

“Mas-ter,” Blaine cries. 

Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s hips, stopping his motion abruptly. Kurt’s mouth kisses at every inch of skin along his spine as he takes Blaine’s cock and lavishes it with long, thorough strokes.  “Is this what you want? Is this what you need?” Kurt asks. 

But Blaine can’t answer with words. Just as quickly as Kurt starts stroking, Blaine comes. He doesn’t know if he’s been given permission, and he doesn’t care, flogging or not. He squirts out globby puddles of white seed all over the head of his cock and Kurt’s still stroking fist. His breath pulses in shallow puffs as he tries to remain upright. 

The next thing Blaine knows is that he’s being guided down to the bed again and Kurt’s arms are around him, protectively. They are facing each other, no doubt so that Kurt can keep a close eye on him. 

“I love you,” Kurt whispers. 

“Mmm,” Blaine moans. 

“Thank you for being mine.” 

Blaine opens his eyes and is met with the warm, loving, blue gaze that he loves so much. “It’s my pleasure,” he answers with a smirk. 

Kurt laughs and slaps his bruised ass. 

“Oww,” Blaine pouts, but Kurt swiftly kisses his pout away. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Kurt asks, his protective and nurturing nature coming out full force. “I should tend to your bites and bruises.” 

“Yes, I’m ok,” Blaine confirms, “more than ok. I’m wonderful, actually.” 

Kurt smiles and leans in to pepper his mouth with kisses. 

“Although, I’m trying to think of when my husband became such an expert in dirty talk.” 

“What can I say? You bring it out of me," Kurt says with a small shrug. 

“Oh, I think you’re just a natural. If dirty talk were a language, you, my dear Master, would be completely fluent.” 

“My how the tables have turned,” Kurt says, smiling at him, mirthfully. He doesn’t miss the inquisitive look Blaine gives him, though. “Oh come on, you act like you’ve never been a dirty talker. If anyone is the dirty linguist in this family, it is you!”

“What? Me? I have never…” 

Kurt leans up on his elbow and raises his brow. “So you’re just going to forget that time when we were still trying to figure out how to be boyfriends, but you had no qualms about dancing in your room and talking to me about masturbation?” 

Blaine opens his mouth to say something, but Kurt holds up a finger. “And what about the time you tried to talk to this baby penguin about sex? We weren’t even dating then!” 

“Kuu…” 

“And must I remind you about ‘dirty cute’?” Kurt makes air quotes with his fingers. 

Blaine smiles like the cat who stole the cream. “In my defense, those jeans were tighter than sin, and have you seen your ass in them?” 

Kurt laughs and tackles Blaine back into the pillow, kissing him sloppily. When he comes up for air he grins. “I still have those.” 

Blaine closes his eyes and groans.

 


	13. Ornament

 

Kurt bursts into the bathroom, just as Blaine is stepping out of the shower and grabbing for his towel. 

“Pet!” Kurt says excitedly, clapping his hands together. “I put up a Christmas tree in our playroom.” 

Blaine towel dries his hair and gives Kurt a confused look. “We already have a tree,” he says.

“But this is a special tree.” The sparkle in Kurt’s eyes is almost blinding, but Blaine doesn’t look away. He loves Kurt like this. Kurt is obviously excited about this tree, and has made the effort of putting it up, despite the perfectly beautiful tree they already trimmed in the living room. Blaine knows that what makes this tree special has a direct correlation with how he will be spending his evening. 

Blaine wraps his towel around his shoulders, and tugs on the ends of the towel, drying his back. “What makes it special?” He asks. 

Kurt’s gaze turns mischievous. “Oh, I’ll show you. Finish drying off and meet me in the playroom. Don’t bother putting clothes on.” 

When Blaine enters the playroom, everything is as it usually is. All the furniture and toys are in their places, and the room looks tidy and inviting. What catches Blaine’s eye is the wooden tree in the corner. It’s not a real tree, but a structure made to look like a tree. It’s made from mahogany and has a circular base, which holds a three-foot-tall post symbolizing the tree’s trunk. Eight long pegs extend out at an angle from the trunk, acting as the tree’s branches. Weaved along the pegs is a small string of red and green Christmas lights. 

Blaine takes a few steps deeper into the room and notices two medium-sized steel buckets sitting to the right of the tree. Both buckets are filled with water, one with ice cubes, and the other has gentle steam rising from it. In addition to the water, each bucket has four thin leather straps hanging over its edge. 

Blaine finally looks up a Kurt, who is smiling at him excitedly. “I wanted our playroom to be festive,” Kurt explains. “It’s a simple tree, but that’s because it hasn’t been decorated yet.” Kurt moves closer to Blaine and presses his hands to his shoulders, easing him to his knees. “That’s where you come in, pet.” 

As Blaine sinks into the familiar and entirely welcomed position on his knees, his body relaxes. He is in the playroom with the love of his life, and is eager and ready to serve. There is nowhere he feels safer. He lifts his gaze and focuses on the tree in the corner, then looks up into Kurt’s ocean blue eyes. “I’d be happy to help, Sir,” he says. “Where are the ornaments?” 

Kurt crouches down so that he’s at eye level with his sub. Blaine loves that about him - Kurt is not afraid of the intimacy they can share by just gazing into each other’s eyes. “They are in the buckets,” Kurt says and leans in to peck at Blaine’s mouth. “One bucket is filled with ice cold water, and the other with hot tap water.” 

Blaine still has no idea what is going to happen, but the look in Kurt’s eyes, as well as the tone of his voice, makes Blaine’s heart beat faster. 

“I’m going to situate myself right here,” Kurt shows Blaine the small plush area rug that he will be sitting on. “And you, my gorgeous pet, are going to crawl to the ice bucket and choose a leather strap with your teeth and bring it to me. And, pet, do not drop it.” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Kurt leans in to kiss Blaine again, more thoroughly this time. When he’s done, he moves behind him, placing his hand flat between Blaine’s shoulder blades and pushes until Blaine’s forehead is on the floor. Kurt’s hand slides down Blaine’s spine to cup his ass, his other hand joining as he squeezes and spreads his cheeks. “You have a beautiful ass, Blaine,” he says and lifts it up so that Blaine’s weight shifts to his shoulders, and his ass perches higher. 

Blaine stays still as Kurt traces his hands all over his ass and thighs. Warmth blooms in his stomach when he hears Kurt’s praise, and it travels slowly but surely downward with each squeeze of Kurt’s hands. When Blaine hears the click of the cap, he immediately knows what’s coming. His eyes slip shut and he takes a deep inhale as he feels the cool drizzle on his hole, and Kurt’s deft fingers working it in. 

Around and around the rim Kurt goes. He presses the pad of his finger hard against Blaine’s pucker, opening it up just a little before he circles. As he inches it wider, coaxing the ring of muscle to loosen, Kurt presses and slowly slides in knuckle deep. Blaine can take more right from the start, but Kurt loves to play with his ass and tease it oh-so-slowly. 

Kurt takes a few moments to open Blaine up – not too wide, but just enough to take the edge off for what comes next. When Kurt is satisfied that Blaine’s asshole is slick and lax, he slides his hand into Blaine’s damp curls and tugs Blaine back into a straight kneel. His hand scratches at Blaine’s scalp a little, then fists his hair and maneuvers him to expose his neck. “It’s time to trim the tree, beautiful,” he says and bites gently along Blaine’s neck. “You may go retrieve the first ornament.” 

“Thank you, Sir,” Blaine whispers through rushed breath and leans forward onto all fours. He crawls towards the buckets, slowly, as Kurt likes it. He knows Kurt loves to watch the way his body moves when he’s on his hands and knees and so close to the floor. When he reaches the cold bucket, Blaine bends his head and grasps a leather strap. Remembering Kurt’s words, he makes sure the strap is secure between his teeth and tugs up revealing the ornament. Blaine can only catch a glimpse of it but notices that it’s a big, clear object. He can feel its weigh and… it’s heavy. When Blaine returns to where Kurt is situated, he sits back onto his heels, straightens his back, and lifts his chin softly, presenting Kurt with the ornament. 

“Good boy,” Kurt praises and caresses his cheek. Kurt takes the leather strap from Blaine’s mouth and lifts it up so that the ornament is in Blaine’s field of view. “I like the one you chose first, pet.” 

Blaine looks at the dildo with wide eyes, while the warmth in his stomach quickly blossoms into an intense heat. The cock is made from Pyrex glass.  It is a good six inches long, not including the ribbed handle, with three deep round ridges along the shaft, and curved at the tip. 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Kurt asks. 

“So pretty, Sir.” 

“It’s going to look even prettier in your ass, pet. Once I’m done playing with it, you will crawl back to the tree to hang it up, then choose another to bring back for more play.” 

Blaine remembers there are eight ornaments in total and realizes that he, and his cock, are going to be up all night. 

“Now face down, ass up, pet. I don’t want the glass to warm up too much.” 

Blaine obeys by turning around and pressing his cheek and shoulders to the floor; his bottom half lifts up into a high kneel so that his ass is perched for the taking. While he does this, Kurt is making himself more comfortable by taking off his first layer of clothing, remaining in an undershirt and boxers. He kneels on a pillow behind Blaine’s presented ass, takes the dildo in hand and presses the curved tip to Blaine’s hole. 

When Blaine feels it, he yelps. Whether it’s from the dildo’s temperature or the texture, Blaine isn’t even sure. Kurt is careful at first, and Blaine is grateful for that. He was stretched slightly, but the glass is unyielding, and since this is the first ornament of the night, he doesn’t want too much too fast. He knows there are seven more ornaments after this one. It’s about starting slow, then gaining momentum until it’s time to race for the finish. 

“How does it feel, pet?” 

“So cold, Sir, but… mmm, so good.” 

“That’s what I like to hear.” Kurt drizzles some lube onto the glass, then pushes further into Blaine’s ass a good two inches. Kurt watches the ridges of the shaft push through the ring of muscles one by one, and he groans loud and long. 

“It’s so hard,” Blaine adds with a whimper. 

“Do you want it deeper?” 

“Ohh yes, please.” 

Kurt pushes in again, this time all the way, until his fist is between Blaine’s cheeks, and the dildo has bottomed out. 

“F-fuck, yes,” Blaine grunts out and breathes deeply. 

The noises Blaine makes encourage Kurt to move the glass around in a circle, as if he were stirring thick batter. With each circular motion, Blaine’s rim is stretched. The sight eggs Kurt on to create bigger and wider movements so that he grinds into Blaine’s ass from the inside. “By the end of the night, you’re going to be gaping, my beautiful one. God, your ass is so perfect, Blaine. It’s so supple and takes any cock I give it so well.” 

Blaine can only whimper in repetition. 

“That’s my good boy,” Kurt encourages, and then begins to pump in and out, shallow strokes that get longer and harder until he’s fucking Blaine with the glass dildo in a quick rhythm. 

Blaine grunts and pants, his fingers dig into the flesh of his inner thighs as his arms reach back between his legs. He takes everything Kurt gives him. The dildo is no longer freezing, his ass has done a good job of heating it up, but his insides still feel cold, and he decides that when he goes to retrieve another ornament he will choose a warm one. As he thinks about how the hot dildo will warm him from the inside, he feels his cock straining and his balls hanging heavily. Suddenly Blaine isn’t sure if he will last. It’s only the first ornament and he’s already worked up. 

Kurt slides the dildo out without warning, leaving Blaine’s ass to clench and grasp at nothing. He slaps Blaine’s cheek, prompting him to sit back up. “This one is ready to hang, sweetheart.” 

Blaine turns around slowly, and Kurt kisses his forehead and holds out the leather for Blaine to bite down on. Once it’s secure, Blaine crawls to the tree and hangs it on one of the pegs with his mouth. He notices how pretty the tree looks already, with the Christmas lights glinting off the smooth wet glass. Blaine dips his head and retrieves an ornament from the hot bucket. He turns and makes his way back to his dominant, quicker than the first time because, although he knows his ass will ache for days after, he can’t wait to be filled again. 

And filled he is. He is made to decorate the tree and retrieve a new glass ornament five more times. Each time, Blaine crawls quicker than the last. By the time he hangs the seventh dildo ornament on the tree, he is fully panting and whimpering from the hours of teasing, unrelenting penetration. His body is sweaty, with curls plastered to his forehead. His ass is gaping, aching, and sensitive from over-use. His groin spasms from the stimulation of having extreme temperatures stab at his insides - cold then hot, his balls are so full they hang heavily between his thighs, and his cock juts down towards the floor, dribbling a trail of precome as he crawls. 

“This is the last one, baby boy,” Kurt says as he takes the warm dildo from Blaine’s mouth. This one is the largest, and the simplest, one yet. The ornament is seven inches long and one and a half inches thick. It has no curves; it is just straight unyielding glass, with the only contour being the thick mushroom shaped tip, molded to look like a real cock head. When Blaine sees it (because Kurt shows him each one before shoving it into his ass) his eyes bug out, and his ass clenches in anticipation. Kurt notices the reaction and grins. “You are such an ass-slut, baby. You love having your hole filled, don’t you?” 

“Sweet Jesus, yes…” Blaine says, and proves it by turning and presenting his ass one more time. 

“Not so fast, pet,” Kurt says, getting to his feet. “For your last one, you’re going to stand.” Kurt tugs him up by the hair, Blaine following quickly. Kurt props him up and positions him to stand with his feet as wide apart as he can manage. He bends him forward at the waist until Blaine’s doubled over, and commands him to grasp his ankles. “Do not let go,” Kurt says. 

Blaine clutches his ankles. The position and anticipation makes his entire body tremble, and his asshole clench, already grasping at the glass that will soon be in his ass. Kurt takes the large warm dildo in hand, stands behind Blaine’s exposed ass, and makes no show of it – he presses it to his hole and pushes in swiftly and quickly, not even needing lube anymore with how wet Blaine’s ass is. Blaine howls when the tip hits his prostate hard, his whole body shuddering. “Oh, by the way,” Kurt teases, “you may come whenever and as many times as you want, pet.” 

Blaine groans, but it sounds more like a sob. 

“Sorry I forgot to mention that,” Kurt adds, “But don’t worry, I’ll make this last one worth your while. How many orgasms do you want, pet? Five? Six? Twelve?” 

“P-please…” 

“I love it when you beg,” Kurt slaps his ass. Kurt settles in so that he can gain the most leverage, by standing sturdily, with his feet apart. He uses his right hand, and the weight of his whole arm to fuck Blaine – the strokes are hard, so very hard, but slow and thorough. He wants Blaine to feel everything for as long as possible. 

By the time Kurt switches to his left hand, Blaine has come twice. Come has splattered and pooled into a puddle directly below his wide stance. Blaine’s hands are gripping his ankles so hard that Kurt makes note to check them later for proper circulation. When Blaine comes a third time, Kurt shifts his weight and grasps the handle of the dildo with both hands. He uses all his strength to pound Blaine’s ass. 

Blaine is shouting, howling, and pleading as tears roll up his face. His mouth is wide open gasping and panting and grunting to the rhythm of Kurt’s powerful strokes. His cock is half hard from the continued stimulation to his prostate, but also half soft from the three intense orgasms he’s been forced to have, one after the other. 

“Mastermastermastermasterpleasepleaseplease,” he cries. 

“One more, beautiful,” Kurt grunts. “I want one more from you.” 

Blaine’s knees buckle, and he sways. Kurt is quick to steady him, but doesn’t stop fucking the dildo into him. “You can do it, slut. I know you can. Close your eyes and give into it.” 

Blaine obeys. He closes his eyes and retreats to that place he loves so much. He is safe there. He knows that whatever happens, Kurt will care for him, and no harm will ever come to him. Blaine grunts and moans and shakes. He drifts and floats… and comes. His cock dribbles out his seed in globs, splattering down to the floor. 

When Blaine is finished coming, Kurt removes the dildo, and helps his sub down to the plush area rug to lie on his back. Kurt pets him until Blaine’s shaking and clenching subside, and until his breathing is back to an almost normal rhythm. When Kurt feels it’s safe, he gathers Blaine into his arms and holds him close, kissing into his wet hair, and murmuring words of love and praise. 

“You are everything, Blaine. You took them all so well. I am proud of you, and I love you immensely.” 

Blaine’s eyes open and he smiles sleepily. 

“How are you feeling? Is your bottom okay, pet?” 

“It hurts,” he murmurs, “but not in a bad way.” 

“A good hurt?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Let me take you to bed, pet, so that I can check you over.” 

“Not yet,” Blaine murmurs. “I have to hang the last ornament. And… I should wash them.” 

Kurt kisses his lips. “My beautiful submissive, let’s hang it together. You can wash and re-hang them tomorrow, after you’ve had some sleep.” 

Blaine smiles. “Good idea.” 

Soon after, they both stand up, although Blaine more tenderly than Kurt. Kurt retrieves the dildo and takes Blaine’s hand as they walk towards the tree. He places the glass on the last peg and they stand back to admire it. Blaine hugs into Kurt, and notices how beautifully the lights glint off the eight clear glass ornaments. When Blaine tilts his face up to steal soft kisses, and Kurt looks down into his eyes, he sees the light in Kurt’s gaze and appreciates how it makes his whole world brighter and happier.

 


	14. Negligence

 

Kurt is high with festive spirit. He and Blaine have been ambling along hand in hand at the Union Square Holiday Market picking up some last minute gifts for their friends and co-workers. 

This morning when Kurt nuzzled Blaine awake so that he could enjoy the breakfast in bed that he had made, he sensed that something was wrong. Blaine was reserved and seemed distant.

Kurt wasn’t going to let Blaine’s doldrums spoil their planned shopping day, though; besides, Kurt didn’t want to make a big deal out of something he wasn’t sure of. He distracted Blaine with toasted homemade cinnamon bread, yogurt with honey and banana, strong coffee, and a lot of kisses. Kurt decided he would monitor Blaine’s mood and step in if he had to. 

The day is going well, so far. They have scratched some names off their gift list, and Kurt found a new leather wallet for Blaine that he asked the merchant to hold until the next day when Blaine will be at work. Blaine, with the exception of a few times when Kurt has caught him fidgeting and with his head in the clouds, has been well-behaved. Kurt noted those fidgets and lapses in concentration, and decided he will talk to Blaine when they return home in the evening to ask if anything is bothering him. 

As they walk, they pass by a hot chocolate truck. Blaine squeaks and tugs Kurt toward it until they reach the counter. “The gentleman will have a medium soy dark hot chocolate, and I’ll take a white hot chocolate, both with extra whip, please,” Blaine orders, politely. 

Kurt wants to protest the extra calories, but instead he rolls his eyes playfully because his husband is way too cute for his own good, and because the drink sounds really good. 

It’s delicious, Kurt decides as he takes a careful sip. He takes another sip and moans at the sweet treat, and can’t help but use his finger to scoop up some of the whipped cream. 

“You’re adorable,” Blaine gushes. “I love how when I put chocolate in front of you, you lose all sense of decorum. I love you.” 

Kurt blushes and kisses Blaine chastely. They rest at a high-top table for a few minutes and enjoy their drinks. When Kurt gets antsy to start shopping again, he takes Blaine’s hand leading him away from the kiosk with drinks still in hand. 

“You won’t believe what Heidi said to Dr. Reaves yesterday,” Blaine tells him. 

“Ooh, gossip! Do tell… Oh, Oww! Ah!” Kurt hisses as a man, who is walking and texting, runs straight into him, mowing him over and making the hot chocolate spill down the front of Kurt’s designer (hand wash only, and lay flat to dry) sweater. 

The man looks up briefly from his phone and mumbles a hasty, “sorry,” but keeps walking. Kurt, who is distracted with peeling the hot cashmere away from his body, and digging in his pockets for napkins, doesn’t notice Blaine, who has fury in his eyes, bolt after the man. 

“Hey!” Blaine yells. When Kurt hears it, he forgets about his sweater and looks up, because he has rarely heard Blaine shout that loudly and viciously. 

Blaine reaches the man, who is still typing away on his phone, grabs him by his shoulder and spins him around. “What kind of imbecile are you, to walk right into my husband, spill his drink all over him, and barely look up from your phone?” 

“You should tell him to watch where he’s going then,” the man says and starts to walk away again. 

Kurt sees that Blaine is not going to be backing down from this, which really confuses him. Blaine normally doesn’t like confrontation, and only acts this way when there is something really bothering him. Kurt doubts very much that a soiled sweater is the cause behind Blaine’s outburst. 

Blaine follows the man and seethes after him, “Your negligence just caused my husband to have a hot beverage spilled on him. You need to apologize to him. And are you going to pay for…” 

“Blaine!” Kurt calls in a low, stern voice. The average passerby would think that Kurt merely wants Blaine’s attention, but Kurt has used this tone on purpose; Blaine knows, full well, the message behind that voice. 

Blaine stops and turns around. Kurt notices that his hands are clutched into fists at his sides, his eyebrows are crinkled together, and his bottom lip is jutting out. “Forget about him,” Kurt says softly. “Come here.” 

Kurt doesn’t want to cause a scene in the middle of the market. A big enough raucous has been made by that ignoramus not watching where he was going. Kurt needs to calm Blaine down, though, so that they can go home and Kurt can get to the bottom of Blaine’s antics. 

When Blaine approaches him, he huffs and opens his mouth to say something. Kurt shushes him with one glare. He takes Blaine’s wrist and presses his thumb against his rapid pulse point with the intention of grounding his submissive. Kurt is careful. They have never done anything like this in public, and Kurt doesn’t want to start – not now, not before they have talked about it in depth. Kurt is only trying to calm Blaine, who is now blinking back tears. 

“I’m completely fine…” Kurt starts to say. 

“Your sweater,” Blaine interrupts. 

“Blaine,” Kurt says softly, and Blaine closes his mouth, his gaze flittering everywhere as it is unable to focus. “I’m going to take you home, but before I do, I need for you to take three big breaths.” 

Blaine closes his eyes and does as he’s told. 

“Do you need to use the washroom?” Kurt asks. 

When Blaine shakes his head, Kurt tugs him closer, by the wrist, hooks his arm into the crook of his elbow and starts walking towards home in silence. 

When they reach the apartment, Blaine seems to be much calmer, but Kurt knows he’s not 100 percent his usual self. Kurt lets them in and purposely distracts Blaine by instructing him to put away the packages, wash his hands and get them both glasses of water. While Blaine does that, Kurt takes off his soiled sweater and bee-lines it to the laundry room to put some stain treatment on it. 

Blaine is waiting for him in the living room. Two glasses of water sit on the coffee table, and Blaine is kneeling fully clothed with his head bowed. Kurt sits on the couch in front of Blaine and leans forward to tilt his chin up. “Take a drink, sweetheart, then come on up and sit with me.” 

“I deserve punishment, Sir.” Blaine whispers. 

“Maybe you do, but that’s not how this conversation is going to go, at least not yet.” 

Blaine looks up into his eyes, and Kurt can see the tears brimming. He takes the glass and holds it up to Blaine’s mouth. When Blaine has had a few sips, Kurt puts the glass down and pats the cushion beside him. “Up.”

 Blaine sits with one knee folded beneath him, and with his body angled toward Kurt. Kurt takes his hand and smooths his thumb over Blaine’s knuckles. “Ok, pet, care to tell me why you went off on that man?” 

“He ran into you, Kurt,” Blaine says passionately. “And he was a complete jerk about it.” 

“That’s true, but I don’t think that’s the reason behind your outburst.” 

“You know I’m protective of you.” 

“Yes, but I also know you are a gentleman and well-mannered.” 

Blaine hangs his head. 

“I know that you get riled up at times, and that you are sometimes feisty and passionate. I actually love that about you, Blaine. But what happened today… it wasn’t that. There is something wrong, and it has nothing to do with my sweater.” Kurt palms softly at Blaine’s cheek, trying to get him to look up. “I also noticed that you’ve been a little antsy and withdrawn today.” 

“My dad is coming for New Year’s.” Blaine says it so softly, that Kurt barely hears it. 

“Here? To New York?” 

Blaine sighs. “Yes.” 

Suddenly it all makes sense – Blaine’s demeanor and behaviour. Mr. Anderson is visiting them for New Year’s, which is in just a couple of weeks. It must’ve just been sprung on Blaine, because he just Skyped his dad yesterday. Spending time with his dad is always stressful for Blaine, especially when he doesn’t have time to plan and prepare himself mentally, and this year … _OH!_  

“Oh, sweetheart…” 

“You know how he feels about you, Kurt.” 

Kurt knows all too well. Mr. Anderson has never been rude to him, or excluded him from anything, but both he and Blaine know that Mr. Anderson would rather Blaine were straight and be married to a woman. Whenever Mr. Anderson is around, Kurt doesn’t feel like himself, which makes Blaine on edge. He and Blaine have talked a lot about it. Blaine hates that Kurt is made to feel “wrong” in his own home, and that he has to make sacrifices. Kurt always counters this by reminding Blaine that he knows how Blaine feels about him, and that he is the only Anderson whose love and approval matter to him. It’s nice to be welcomed and loved by Pam and Cooper, but when it comes down to it, Blaine is the only Anderson Kurt needs. So Kurt makes the sacrifice for Blaine … so that Blaine can have a pleasant time with his dad. Even though their rhythm and their lives are thrown off, dealing with those few and far between (and brief) visits from Mr. Anderson is usually manageable. They tidy up their apartment so that nothing _offensive_ is out in the open; they tone down the public displays of affection, and just get through it. 

“I do know,” Kurt finally says. “And I know that this is bothering you more than it usually would because of the plans you have for New Year’s Eve.” 

“I wanted to take you out, Kurt. I have this big date planned, and my dad has ruined it,” Blaine looks into Kurt’s eyes. “And I’m tired of him thinking less of you. I think… I think that’s why I lost my cool today, because somehow in my subconscious I saw my father bowling you over, and not even flinching, not even acknowledging you or apologizing.” 

Kurt finally takes Blaine into his arms and hugs him tight. “Do you know how much I love you?” 

“Yes,” Blaine says. And Kurt knows it’s true. Blaine knows because Kurt shows him and tells him every day. 

Kurt doesn’t release Blaine; he lets him cuddle into his chest, but that doesn’t mean Kurt is done talking. “I understand how you feel, and I get why you reacted to that idiot. What I don’t understand, though, is why you neglected to tell me that your dad is coming. Why did I have to find out this way? Why didn’t you come to me last night, or this morning?” 

When Blaine stays silent, Kurt pushes, “Do you not trust me to handle the news or the situation with grace, Blaine? Because I have always tried…” 

“No. That’s not it at all.” 

“Then why?” 

“I needed time to process. I needed space to think. I have every intention of telling my father that he can’t come, at least not until mid-January, at the earliest. I just have to figure out how I’m going to do that. I wanted to have all of that squared away before I told you.” 

“You do realize that I could help you with this, don’t you? But you were shutting me out.” 

Blaine takes a deep breath, “I’m so sorry.” 

“We’re a team, sweetheart.” 

“I know, I know, I just… panicked.” 

Kurt kisses his forehead and holds him for a long while. When he hears Blaine’s tummy rumble, he remembers that they haven’t yet eaten dinner. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” Kurt says and nudges at Blaine to sit up. “I’m going to order Thai, and when we sit down to eat we are going to come up with what you’re going to say to your dad to delay his visit.” 

Blaine smiles, “That sounds good.” 

“We will still have our date on New Year’s Eve and, by the way, I’m dying to know what you have planned,” Kurt smiles. 

Blaine does a zipping and locking motion across his lips and winks. 

“And then tomorrow, after you’ve called your dad and everything is fixed, I’m going to administer your punishment.” 

Blaine swallows. 

“Do you know why you will be punished?” 

“Yes, Sir, it’s because my negligence in not telling you about my dad’s visit caused me to lose my cool, which caused you and me undue stress.” 

“Yes, and it cut my shopping time short.” 

Blaine looks into Kurt’s eyes. Kurt gives his brows a waggle, and they both burst out laughing. When Blaine catches his breath, he asks, “Does this mean I’m not getting punished?” 

“Oh, you’re definitely getting punished, pet.” 

Blaine pouts, and Kurt kisses it away. “But,” Kurt amends, “if you ever see that ignoramus again, I give you full permission to kick him in the shin.” 

Blaine laughs so hard he falls off Kurt’s lap.

 


	15. Orange

 

It’s December fifteenth and, like every fifteenth day of each month, Blaine is due at home at four o’clock (unless there is a medical emergency with one of his patients). 

The custom was introduced by Blaine the year they were married. The first month after their nuptials, Blaine brought home a bouquet of yellow and red roses for Kurt, and has done so every month since, without fail. When they got comfortable with their Dom / sub lifestyle, Kurt added a new element to the day - requiring Blaine to be home by four in the afternoon for his spanking. 

The rite of Blaine delivering flowers, and Kurt administering a spanking, is one that they both look forward to every month. Blaine has never been even one minute late, let alone forgotten any. That is why, on this particular day, Blaine is a little bit panicked. There was an issue with the subway, which made it be delayed by half an hour. And now, Blaine is running late… literally. He runs down the sidewalk, snow crunching beneath his boots as he dodges pedestrians, to his favourite flower bodega, which happens to be just a block from the apartment. All he has to do is pick up flowers and run home. He has five minutes. He can do it. 

He whizzes through the door straight to the counter where Mr. Leeds should have a fresh bouquet of red and yellow roses for him. As he’s digging for his cash, Mr. Leeds says, “Mr. Blaine, I’m so sorry, but something happened to our truck today and it couldn’t deliver. I’m out of yellow roses.” 

“Oh, umm…” Blaine looks at his watch. 

“I have red, orange, or white. I can make a bouquet quickly.” 

Blaine knows that being late, as opposed to bringing the wrong flowers, would be worse, so he just chooses quickly so he can go. When Mr. Leeds points out the choices, Blaine’s eyes draw on only one colour. “I’d like the orange ones,” he says. “Don’t bother arranging them; I’ll just take the whole bunch.” 

He pays, takes the flowers and sprints home, taking the stairs by two until he’s shoving his key into the door and busting in with a flurry. Kurt is standing in the hallway looking at his watch, and Blaine’s heart sinks. “Am I late?” he pants, “Sir, I’m so sorry. There was…” 

“You’re not late,” Kurt says with a smile. “But damn Blaine, that was sure cutting it close. Your spanking was fifteen seconds away from turning into a flogging.” 

“Oh thank God,” Blaine breathes. “But, um, I don’t know if I’m in the clear yet.” 

Kurt moves to him and kisses his frosty lips while he unbuttons Blaine’s coat and hangs it up on the hook. “Is that so? What have you done?” Kurt asks with amusement in his voice. 

Blaine thrusts the bouquet forward. “These are for you, my dear husband. I know they’re not the right colour at all, but… it was beyond my control.” 

Kurt takes the bunch and looks at the flowers. Blaine does too, for the first time, and notices that they are actually quite beautiful. What is even more beautiful is the way in which Kurt dips his nose into the fresh petals and inhales, the scent making him coo and flutter his lashes. 

“Something happened to Mr. Leeds’s truck,” Blaine adds, “so I only had a choice of red, orange, or white. I chose the orange ones because, when you think about it, orange is a hue between red and yellow. I… I hope you like them.” 

Kurt smiles at him with unshed tears in his eyes. “I love them; they’re perfect.”

 

+

 

One of the many amazing things about Kurt, Blaine thinks as he rests blindfolded, naked, and in child’s pose in the middle of their lush, king-sized bed, is that he’s able to take a near disaster and turn it around into something beautiful. Blaine deviated from tradition and brought home an unorthodox colour of rose. It’s not a huge change, but considering it’s the first time it’s ever happened, it’s enough to throw a person off – a routine-driven person, like Kurt. Not to mention, Blaine was very, very close to being late – also for the first time. Kurt took it all in stride, and instead of being rattled or upset, Kurt has used it as an opportunity to show Blaine something beautiful and so very satisfying. 

The rose’s petals feel so soft against Blaine’s skin. Traditionally, Kurt would use the soft leather tip of his crop to trace all of Blaine’s curves, and to prod gently into every dip and crevasse. But today, Blaine has not felt the crop once; instead, Kurt has been dragging one of the roses along his skin. 

Blaine is kneeling with his forehead to the bed and his arms flanking either side of him. His bottom is pressed down to his heels, and his back is rounded, as he makes himself as compact as possible. It’s the pose Kurt likes him in, at least at the beginning. The pattern Kurt is tracing on his back, down his spine, and along his bottom is entrancing, and has Blaine on the verge of floating. The sensation, which is heightened by Blaine’s forbidden sense of sight, is one Blaine has never felt before. He enjoys the subtle velvety texture of the petals, and can sense the damp oil it leaves behind as it trails down and up, and all around. 

When Kurt lays the rose down, stem and all, along the line of his spine, Blaine inhales sharply. He realizes that because he didn’t have time for Mr. Leeds to arrange the flowers for him, the thorns are still present on the stem. They don’t prick, but Blaine can definitely feel them – and one wrong move could prove to be painful. 

“Up,” Kurt’s voice pierces through Blaine’s internal thoughts. 

Blaine lifts his bottom so that it’s hovering about a foot from his heels, and so that his shoulders and cheek are pressing deeper into the mattress. The movement causes the rose to shift, skidding, thorns and all, just a little up his spine. 

Blaine whimpers. 

“Your body is gorgeous, Blaine; it provides such a lovely contrast, a canvas, for the beautiful rose you’ve brought me.” 

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“Thank you, Blaine, for the beautiful orange roses, and for the gift of your body.” 

“Sir…” 

SMACK! 

Kurt’s palm lands sharply on Blaine’s ass cheek causing the rose to skid a little more. 

“One,” Blaine moans. 

“Good boy.” Kurt’s praise makes Blaine’s heart beat hard against his chest, and the stimulation to his ass and spine are such a delicious contrast to his senses that he can’t help but grow longer between his rippling thighs. 

SMACK! 

“Two.” 

SMACK! 

“Three.” 

SMACK! 

“Four.” 

SMACK! 

“Five.” 

Kurt administers the spanking expertly; each of his blows causes the rose to skid and the thorns to scratch at Blaine’s spine. When the rose reaches the nape of Blaine’s neck, Kurt drags it back so that the bottom tip of the stem rests into the dip of Blaine’s tailbone, and its journey can begin all over again. 

SMACK! 

“S-six.” 

SMACK! 

“Sev-en.” 

SMACK! 

“Eight.” 

SMACK! 

“Ni-nine."

SMACK! 

“Tennn.” 

“Such a well-behaved pet,” Kurt says as he drags the flower back into place once again, leaving a series of red scratches down Blaine’s spine. “Now let’s do the other cheek, hmmm?” 

“Yes, please,” Blaine whimpers, his fists gathering the sheets beneath him as he prepares for the onslaught. Usually, he’s able to resist doing this until the third round or so, but the rose Kurt has placed on his back has completely changed the game – for the better, and for the worst. He has four and a half more rounds to go if Kurt is sticking to his maximum of fifty spankings to each cheek. Blaine knows that by the end, his cock will be achingly hard, his ass will be on fire, his back will be marred with scratches, and he’ll be more in love with Kurt than ever. 

“That’s my good boy,” Kurt praises, and starts in on the other cheek. 

SMACK! 

“One…”

 


	16. Pledge

 

Blaine is home alone, enjoying a rare day off during the week. Kurt is working late and at a meeting with movie producers, so Blaine is on his own for dinner and the better part of the evening. He has already cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, has folded all of the laundry, and now he’s starting on dinner. Although he’s alone, he is making enough so that he can warm up a plate for Kurt when he arrives home. 

All the time and space gives Blaine the opportunity to sort his thoughts and his plans. Although it’s a busy time of year, Blaine has put in the effort and is organized for Christmas. All his holiday cards have been mailed and the gifts for his parents, Cooper, and Sam have been shipped. Kurt’s many presents have been purchased, wrapped, and placed under the tree – all with the exception of one. Blaine is adamant on keeping one back and only placing it under the tree once Kurt has gone to sleep on Christmas Eve, because “Santa is real, Kurt, and you’ve been a good boy.” Kurt’s playful eye roll always puts a smile on Blaine’s face. 

So with everything on his Christmas list checked off, Blaine focuses on his New Year’s Eve plans. As he prepares the sauce for the chicken satay, Blaine’s mind floats to what will be an amazing way to ring in 2019. Thankfully, he was able to convince his father to not visit on New Year’s, and to instead come in January. Blaine is free to take Kurt out on a special date. It will be different; every year they spend December 31st partying the night away with their friends, but this year Kurt agreed to let Blaine plan the festivities. Blaine loves their friends, but he has no plans of including them this year. New Year’s Eve will be for him and his husband alone… because Blaine is planning to ask Kurt a very important question. 

As the sauce is simmers, and the chicken is panfrying, Blaine sets the rice to cook and gets started on chopping the vegetables for salad. At the same time, he flips through his mental checklist of the things he’s planned for their special evening. 

Having spent years in New York City already, Blaine is well aware of how crazy and stressful it can be to try to get around on New Year’s Eve. Manhattan, and pretty much all surrounding areas, turns into a madhouse. Luckily, Kurt has given him the freedom to plan the evening out without having his agenda derailed by urban pretense, so Blaine has booked a three-night getaway outside the city. He’s chosen a private, cozy cabin in the Catskills, complete with an over-sized tub for two, which is situated by a large window overlooking the picturesque winter scene, a wood-burning fireplace, and a loft bedroom with a king-sized bed. Blaine has chosen the perfect place for what will undoubtedly become their love nest. 

Once they arrive and get situated, Blaine will take Kurt into the bedroom so that they can both change clothes. Blaine has already chosen what he’s going to wear, which is the suit that Kurt had gifted him on Valentine’s Day. It’s a Kurt Hummel original, so of course, it fits him like a glove. He’s positive Kurt will approve. He’s leaving Kurt’s outfit up to him because nothing and no one will ever tell Kurt what to wear. When they’re dressed, Blaine has plans to take Kurt out to a nearby lodge that houses a lovely restaurant, which has come highly recommended. It’s the perfect mixture of rustic and fine dining. Blaine’s already made reservations, and asked to be sat in the corner by the fireplace overlooking Hudson Mountain. Blaine has also spoken with the restaurant’s manager, and has left instructions (and his credit card) to have a custom cheesecake baked for his husband, which they will take to-go. Blaine has elaborate and detailed plans about how he’s going to feed it to Kurt once they get back to the cabin. Blaine’s is hopeful that, by the time midnight rolls around, Kurt will have a belly full of cheesecake, and he will have a belly full of something else. 

Blaine shakes his head with a grin, as he adds peanut butter to the sauce and makes a light dressing for the salad. He knows it will be difficult for Kurt to reign in his dominance. It’s not that Blaine won’t want to be dominated and used – he’s pretty sure he will be at some point in their getaway, anyway – but he just wants to romance Kurt, woo him first, and get out what he needs to ask. 

So before the cheesecake and the impending sex, Blaine is going to build a fire while Kurt changes into something more comfortable, sit Kurt down on the lavish rug, and serve him some champagne. Blaine will kneel and lay his heart out on the floor. This is the part that Blaine is nervous about; this is the one thing that could go astray. If Kurt takes it the wrong way, it could end up being hurtful, and that is the last thing Blaine wants. 

But Blaine needs to take the chance, because it’s something that has been on his mind for the better part of a year, and he’s desperate to take the next step. He’s pretty sure that Kurt will be happy and accept his request, but there is a little part of Blaine that is unsure. Doubt has implanted into his psyche and, every once in a while, it twists and makes his anxiety flair. 

Thinking about it makes Blaine uneasy. He takes a deep breath as he prepares his plate and one for Kurt, for later. He takes his meal and sits on the couch with a T.V. tray, but he doesn’t turn on the T.V., or any music, or anything. He needs the silence so that he can get his thoughts arranged as to how he’s going to ask Kurt. 

He is pretty sure that when the time comes, he’s just going to blurt out what’s on his mind and in his heart in true Blaine Anderson-Hummel fashion. He will ask Kurt if they can renew their vows – and he’ll make it clear that he doesn’t want this because their existing vows don’t apply or are no longer relevant, if anything, they are more relevant than ever. But Blaine has some important things he needs to pledge to Kurt. These are things  he’s already said to him, things that Kurt already knows, but Blaine has a growing urge to kneel and ask for a collar (even if it’s just symbolic) and to vow his obedience and submission and love to the man who controls his heart, body, and orgasms. He needs to pledge to Kurt, and he wants Kurt to pledge to him, to vow his guidance, dominance, and love. He knows this part is just for them; if Kurt wants, their renewal of vows can be with their family and friends, but this part, the collaring will be behind closed doors. 

Blaine has to set his fork down and take a drink of water, because the mere thought of how intense and important that moment will be sets Blaine’s heart racing. He can’t wait to propose to Kurt again, and for Kurt to say yes, again. He is so eager to pledge everything to his one true love, and to accept Kurt’s collar. 

Blaine checks the time and sees that Kurt will be home in about an hour. He has that much time to get himself together, because if he doesn’t get his emotions under control, Kurt will notice the moment he walks through that door, and Blaine, although everything inside him is screaming to ask Kurt _now_ , he wants to wait… to make it special. 

Blaine shoves food into his mouth and does a giddy dance. With any luck, when the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve, he and Kurt will be promised men again. There is nothing that would make Blaine happier.

 


	17. Stocking

 

“Blaine baby, I got you a pre-Christmas gift!” Kurt calls out as he enters the kitchen after just arriving home. Blaine looks up from drying the dishes and smiles. Kurt’s cheeks are still breathtakingly rosy. Blaine dries his hands and kisses him chastely before taking the offered gift. 

It’s small and soft, and wrapped in pretty red and gold paper with a tiny matching bow. “Kurt, there’s a week until Christmas, why are you spoiling me?” 

“Because you, my dear boy, deserve it, and because it might be more for me than it is for you,” Kurt winks, and then opens the fridge to take out the ingredients for a sandwich. 

“I can make that for you, honey,” Blaine says, grabbing a knife, but Kurt is quick to stop him. 

“Nope, I’m going to make my sandwich, and you’re going to wait for me by the tree. When I’m finished eating, I’ll join you so that you can open your gift. I checked, and your schedule is clear tonight – well, it was clear, but now you’ll be otherwise occupied. If you need to use the washroom do it now, please” 

Blaine nods and kisses Kurt’s cheek as he follows orders. As Kurt assembles the turkey, cheese, and baby spinach on honey oat bread, he starts humming a festive tune. He has no intention of being hasty or eating too quickly. He will take his time and not join Blaine until he’s had a leisurely lunch. He is making Blaine wait. The longer Blaine waits, the more his mind will wonder what exactly is in that package. 

Kurt sits at the table with his sandwich and a glass of sparkling apple juice and begins to eat. When he spotted the item at the Christmas market the other day, a whole slew of ideas crept into his mind. Kurt is nothing if he’s not creative. He had waited for Blaine to be enthralled with Santa’s Workshop, and then quickly went back to the kiosk and purchased the item under his nose. 

From where Kurt is sitting, he can only partially see Blaine as he’s veiled behind the display cabinet in the living room. He can see his bent knees and his hands resting obediently in his lap, holding the package. He watches Blaine trace his thumb over the paper, and he knows that it’s killing Blaine to have to wait. Blaine is smart, though. Kurt is sure that Blaine knows it’s something that will be used to tease him – or maybe it’s not because Blaine is smart, but because he’s hopeful. Blaine is always willing and ready to be teased and played with. 

Once Kurt finishes his sandwich and his apple juice, he takes his plate and glass to the sink for Blaine to wash later, and goes to the bedroom to change and wash up. Ten minutes later, when he returns to the living room, Blaine is kneeling by the tree and fidgeting with the package. 

“Sit still,” Kurt commands. 

Blaine stills and lowers his gaze. 

Kurt gets comfortable on the chair near the tree and instructs Blaine to come closer. Blaine moves on his knees to rest at Kurt’s feet, and Kurt slides his fingers into his hair and tugs him even closer, so that Blaine’s cheek is pressing to Kurt’s inner thigh. “Hello, pet.” 

Blaine smiles. “Hi, Sir.” 

“Are you ready to open your gift?” 

“Yes, please,” he responds, eagerly. 

“Of course, pet. Come on up and sit in my lap.” 

Blaine climbs up and settles with his thighs straddling Kurt’s lap. Kurt grasps his hips and pulls him closer, letting his hands roam around to squeeze Blaine’s bottom beneath the denim of his jeans. “Kiss me, beautiful,” Kurt asks.  Blaine’s mouth is on his immediately, cooing softly at the contact. 

They kiss lazily for a few moments, Kurt’s hands caressing Blaine’s bottom and back endlessly. Blaine’s one hand holds his gift and his other rests on Kurt’s cheek. “You’re a good, obedient boy, Blaine,” Kurt says once they pull apart. “And today you’re going to demonstrate just how good, and just how obedient you can be.” 

Blaine hums happily. “Yes, Sir.” 

“Open it,” Kurt instructs. 

Blaine grins cheekily and asks, “Open what, exactly, Sir?” 

Kurt laughs. “I just finished saying you are a goody boy, and you come at me with your naughty thoughts. What am I going to do with you?” 

Blaine leans in to kiss him quickly, and then tears into the wrapping. He holds it up to reveal a mini, knit stocking. It’s red with white trim, made from organic-cotton yarn, and measures five inches in length and two inches in width. “Thank you, Sir, but I already have a stocking,” Blaine says as his gaze moves to the two stockings hanging side by side on the fireplace mantel. 

“Yes, sweetheart, but this is your pre-Christmas stocking.” 

Blaine looks at it, a confused look on his face. “It’s empty, Sir. Have I been a naughty boy this year?” 

“Yes you have, actually,” Kurt moans more than says. “You’ve been exceptionally naughty. And that is exactly why you’re receiving this empty pre-Christmas stocking. You see, you are going to take off all of these adorable clothes, stand where I put you, and not move away from that spot. Then, you’re going to get yourself hard for me. When the stiffness of your cock is to my liking,” Kurt explains as he traces his finger along Blaine’s denim bulge, “You’re going to fill your stocking with it.” 

Blaine remains silent, but Kurt can tell that his pulse has quickened by the way his chest is rising and falling. “If you let it slip off and fall, there will be consequences, pet, so you’re going to have to find ways to keep that cock hard and jutting out for me.” 

“Sir...” 

“No. Starting now, there will be no talking unless you have to safe word. I won’t gag you, but I don’t want to hear even one word out of you. I have some work to do and don’t want to be disturbed.” 

Blaine licks his lips and nods. 

“Now,” Kurt says and nudges Blaine to stand. “Disrobe. I expect your clothes to be neatly folded and placed on the chair in a pile. I want you standing between the tree and the fireplace. I expect you to remain here until I’ve said otherwise. I’ll go get the lube. When I return you better be naked and stroking. Make it good, pet, because once I slip the stocking on you, you won’t be allowed to touch your cock again… at least not until tomorrow, if you’re lucky.” 

When Kurt returns with the lube, he’s pleased to find that Blaine has followed his orders to a tee. His jeans and sweater are neatly folded, and his socks have been rolled and placed on top of the pile. Kurt is also pleased to not see any underwear, since he had instructed Blaine to go without this morning. 

Blaine is standing exactly where he should be, with his cock in hand, and stroking thoroughly from root to tip. Kurt notices that Blaine is working eagerly, no doubt wanting to get as hard as possible, as fast as possible, so that Kurt doesn’t have to wait around and waste time away from his work. He really does have the best behaved submissive in the world. 

“Good slut,” Kurt praises and uncaps the lube. He drizzles some onto Blaine’s cock as a reward, and watches for a moment as the smooth head disappears into Blaine’s tight fist, then appears again with a slick sound. “Put your hips into it, baby. It will feel so much better that way. And you’ll need to be very hard for the stocking.” 

Kurt crosses the room to start up his laptop, and spreads out some renderings onto the coffee table, which has a full, direct view of Blaine. He retrieves his pencils, charcoals, and colours from his office and returns to find Blaine still stroking, this time rocking back and forth along with the movement, fucking his fist in a fast rhythm.

Kurt approaches Blaine and kisses him hard, taking what he wants. “You can stop now, pet,” he murmurs, and when Blaine lets his fist fall away, Kurt kneels down to inspect his cock’s stiffness. “Mmm, it looks strained and plump, and perfect,” Kurt praises. “I’m going to put the stocking on now, baby boy. Like I said before, don’t let it slip off. If you do, I’ll have to punish you.” Kurt slips the knit stocking easily over Blaine’s cock. It’s loose, so if Blaine’s cock softens, it will slide right off. 

Kurt stands and smiles at his submissive. “The punishment is this,” Kurt says, taking something out of a bag that has been set beneath the Christmas tree. He holds it up in front of Blaine’s face. “It’s a soft silicone cock cage, pet, but don’t be fooled, just because it’s soft doesn’t mean that it’s not restricting. One erection while wearing this will be very painful for you. Don’t worry though, pet, if you show me that you can control your cock it will stay off, but the moment I see that you’re not in control of it, it goes on, and it won’t come off until sometime in 2019.” 

Blaine’s inhales sharply as he looks at the clear silicone device. 

“You can do anything you want to keep your cock hard,” Kurt instructs. “So long as you don’t speak, don’t leave this spot, and don’t touch your cock.” 

Blaine’s eyes are wide, but he nods his understanding. When Kurt turns his back to return to his work, Blaine looks down at his cock, watching as the stocking subtly moves each time his cock twitches and bounces. 

As Kurt settles in to do some work, he catches the flash of panic on Blaine’s face. Under other circumstances, Blaine would love to wear the cock cage. His submissive is amazing in that he loves to please, and loves to carry out his orders, even if it’s an inconvenience for him, because the payoff… is always, always worth it. Each time Blaine is denied and later given his release, he thanks Kurt, and makes it known that he loved the process, and would gladly do it again. It’s in his nature to submit, and to please. But, Blaine has been talking about his plans for New Year’s Eve. Kurt’s not sure of the details, but he knows that Blaine is planning something romantic and important, and he won’t want to be in a cage for that event. Kurt knows that Blaine will do everything in his power to be cage-less on December 31st. 

Kurt picks up his pencil, because he really does have work to do, although it’s nothing that is crucial or has a deadline. He wouldn’t dream of trying to create or draw anything that is detail oriented, or that has a tight deadline while his sub is putting on such a lovely show. Kurt is only human; most of his attention is on his working boy. But Blaine doesn’t have to know that. All Blaine has to know is that he must keep his cock upright and rigid. 

Kurt sketches, but looks up more often than not to watch Blaine, who has his eyes closed and is taking deep breaths while his fingertips roam his chest. Kurt takes the opportunity to set down his pencil and watch him. He loves to see how desperate and horny Blaine can get. One second he is an angelic, sweet, gentleman who helps old ladies carry groceries, feeds stray cats, and works as a doctor, helping his patients, and the next he is a debauched slut who will stop at nothing to obey and work and follow through on whatever Kurt asks of him. 

Blaine moans and Kurt sees that he’s found his nipples and has started pinching. He works one, then the other, but Kurt knows that soon he’ll be squeezing and tugging both of them in an effort to stay hard. The thought (and sight) makes Kurt feels warm inside. 

“Lovely, pet,” he encourages, and then picks up his pencil and goes back to his sketching. 

The next time he looks up, Blaine is struggling. His cock is drooping slightly and he’s breathing hard as one hand is flicking at his nipple, and the other is reaching low to fondle his balls. This time, his eyes are open, and Kurt can see the desperation in his gaze as it filters across the room into his own. Blaine is pleading at him without uttering a single word. 

“Keep going, your cock is getting softer.” 

That seems to spur Blaine on, because he tugs sharply at his balls and releases a sinful moan. He bites at his lip, tilts his head back, and slides his hand upward to rub at his throat while his other hand reaches back to squeeze at his ass. 

Kurt can’t take his eyes off of him, his sketches long forgotten. “God, you are a hot slut,” he says. 

The moment is interrupted by a ringing on Kurt’s laptop. “Oh, it’s an incoming Skype call, pet. It’s work. I have to take it.” 

While Kurt takes a moment to collect himself, Blaine’s eyes flash panic. He stops what he’s doing and stands still and quietly, his cock bobbing in protest. 

“You’re not going to want to stop, pet, otherwise your cock will go flaccid. Keep going, don’t let me interrupt you. Just remember to stay quiet. This microphone is top of the line and picks up the softest little noise,” he says with a wink and hits the accept button. 

Kurt conducts the call like the professional that he is. His attention is on Lauren’s face on the screen, and he answers all her questions efficiently. That doesn’t mean that he’s not peeking at Blaine out of the corner of his eye, though. He always pays attention to Blaine, especially when they’re in the middle of a scene. The call lasts only about ten minutes, which is short for a work conference, but Kurt knows that to Blaine it probably seems like an eternity. He can tell by the way Blaine’s leg muscles shake, by his posture, by the sweat covering his body, by the desperation in his eyes and, once Kurt hangs up his call, by the noises Blaine releases. 

Blaine is outright panting and whimpering. His cock is starting to soften, Kurt can tell because the stocking has slid down an inch or so. Blaine knows this because he’s contorting his body as best he can. His knees are bent, and his hips are tilted upward, giving the sock the best angle to stay on. Blaine is also reaching back behind himself, one hand grasping at his ass cheek, spreading it, and the other desperately trying to penetrate. 

Kurt watches mesmerized as his submissive tries to fuck himself so that he can keep his cock hard. He can hear Blaine straining as he grunts, and knows that if he were allowed to speak, he would beg so prettily. 

“You’re such a desperate little slut, aren’t you?” Kurt asks. Blaine can’t answer, but really, no answer is needed. Kurt knows how desperate he is. Blaine will never reach the level of penetration he desires and needs to keep his cock ramrod stiff. Besides, Blaine has no lube; he’s going at it dry. “Should I take pity on you, baby?” Kurt teases. “Do you need some help to keep that stocking on?” 

Blaine nods his head as best he can while reaching back. His legs are spread and Kurt is pretty sure he’s got two fingers in, but each time he pushes in, his body rocks, which doesn’t fare well for the stocking inching down his cock. 

Kurt takes pity on him – or maybe it’s Kurt being selfish, because he wants to watch Blaine edge himself for much longer. Kurt goes to the playroom to retrieve something, and when he comes back, Blaine is bouncing lightly on his own fingers, his bicep bulging as it strains. His eyes are closed, but his mouth is open as he grunts and whines keenly. 

“Fuck, you’re hot baby,” Kurt moans and moves past him, never touching. Instead he crouches down and attaches the suction dildo to the wall. He turns the knob so that the suction sticks tightly. Kurt is glad he splurged on this type of suction, because they have tested it out many times and it stays put, not moving an inch. Kurt makes sure to position it low enough so that Blaine will be able to fuck himself on it without having to bend over at the waist and have the stocking slip off. 

“You’re going to like this baby,” Kurt says. “And later, I’ll give you the opportunity to thank me for my benevolence, don’t you worry.” Kurt drizzles some lube over the silicone shaft and between Blaine’s spread cheeks. “Go ahead, slut. Fuck yourself on it.” 

Blaine groans. Kurt isn’t sure if it’s in lust, appreciation, or both. 

Kurt’s work is forgotten, as once again, he takes a seat on the chair near the tree. It’s the perfect view of Blaine’s show. Blaine carefully steps back towards the wall, the stocking dangerously slipping down a little further. He bends his knees so that his ass is level with the dildo, his hips tilting acutely upward. He uses his hands to spread his cheeks wide, and his strong thigh muscles to squat down onto the eight inch toy inch by inch. At first he sinks slowly, but once the tip has popped by the ring of muscle, Blaine grunts and bends his knees deeper until he is sitting on the toy completely. 

Kurt notices how Blaine bites at his lips, no doubt stifling back his cries. His eyes are shut tight, his arms are straining to hold his ass wide open, and his thighs are shaking from the weight and the angle of his position. 

“Open your eyes, pet,” Kurt instructs. “Let me see you.” 

Blaine opens his eyes, his gaze settling on Kurt. His cock twitches and bounces, once again becoming as rigid as possible. It’s angled upward, jutting into the air, and the stocking is once again secure. With a deep breath, Blaine begins to bounce, his legs working hard to keep himself upright, but yet ensure the cock fills him completely each time. 

He works like this for a long while. Kurt isn’t keeping track of the time, and Blaine surely isn’t. It’s long enough to work up a good sweat, though. Blaine’s curls are plastered to his forehead, and droplets are running down his chest and his oblique muscles. His balls are swinging in tandem with his bobbing cock and bouncing ass, and his fingers are turning white from squeezing his cheeks so hard. His head is tilted back and his mouth is wide open as he pants, whimpers, whines and grunts. 

Kurt, who by this time has a very big and noticeable erection of his own, sees when Blaine’s entire body starts to shake. The problem is no longer the danger of the stocking slipping off; Kurt worries that Blaine could collapse from exhaustion. 

“Stop.” 

It takes a second for Blaine to comprehend Kurt’s instruction, but when he does he stops abruptly. His hands release his ass and he stands up straight, moaning at the loss of something hard in his ass. He stands on shaky legs, panting and sweaty, but with his attention on Kurt. 

“You’re and exceptional submissive, Blaine,” Kurt encourages. He presses his palm to Blaine’s cheek and caresses. “You made it, sweetheart. The stocking stayed on.” 

Blaine lets out a whiny sob, and Kurt can’t help but kiss him. He takes off the stocking and takes a closer look at Blaine’s cock. It’s purple and straining, and the tip is gooey with precome. “This cock looks so good, baby. It makes me so hard for you. Your entire performance has. I’ve been on the verge of masturbating all afternoon watching how hard you’ve been working, and how obedient you are.” 

Blaine moans. 

“I think I’m going to need you to fuck me, Blaine,” Kurt says. 

Blaine whines and juts his hips forward, begging. 

“You want that, don’t you baby? You want to fuck me?” Kurt is undressing quickly, not bothering to fold his clothes into a neat pile the way Blaine had. He just lets them fall on the floor. 

Blaine nods eagerly. 

“Ok,” Kurt says, and dribbles some lube onto his fingers so that he can prepare himself a little. “You’ve earned it. God, I’m so tight, Blaine. My ass is going to feel amazing around your desperate cock. I- I… mmm, I’m going to bend over for you, and you’re going to fuck me hard and quick, just how I like it. But you’re al-so going t-to fuck yourself back onto the dil-do at the same time. Stimulation on both ends; how does that sound sweetheart?” 

Blaine cries out when Kurt drizzles lube on his cock and uses his hand to slather it in. 

“No talking, no stopping, no coming.” With that instruction, Kurt turns his back to Blaine and crowds him backwards until Blaine is once again pressed down onto the toy. Kurt positions himself at the correct level and sits on Blaine’s hard cock while spreading his cheeks wide. “Oh my fucking, God,” Kurt yelps. “Fuck, yes. Fuck me, slut.” 

Blaine bucks forward, fucking into Kurt, then pulls back, fucking himself onto the cock. His hands grasp Kurt’s hips and squeeze, trying to communicate to Kurt that he’s so, so, so fucking close. But somehow, he fucks into Kurt again, then back again, and develops a rhythm. It’s clumsy, but hard, and quick, and in no time at all, Kurt is babbling and stroking his cock so hard that he’s already seeing stars. 

Suddenly, Kurt steps away and turns. One hand is stroking and the other reaches into Blaine’s curls and guides him roughly to kneel. Kurt doesn’t even have to say it; Blaine already has his mouth open, his tongue out begging for his thick seed. 

“G-good boy, B-Blaine,” Kurt grunts, holds Blaine’s head where he wants it, and shoots deep into Blaine’s mouth, not wasting a single drop. “Oh yes, yes, yes, yes…” 

Kurt regains his wits moments later, and kneels in front of Blaine, whose cock is still raging. He places both hands on Blaine’s face and connects their foreheads. “I am so fucking lucky to have you. You are my pride and joy. Let me reward you, my love.”

Blaine sobs, happily. 

Kurt quietly whispers, “And, you may speak.” 

“Please let me wear the cock cage.” 

Kurt is taken aback. He looks into Blaine’s eyes, searching for something… 

“For you, Sir, please let me wear it for you. I don’t want to come.” 

“Blaine,” Kurt says softly. “I only had it in mind for a punishment. Besides, if I put it on, it’s not coming off for a long time. And, I don’t want to ruin your New Year’s Eve plans.” 

“Having it on will make it better, I promise.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m absolutely positive.” 

Kurt gathers Blaine up in his arms. “Let’s get you calmed down and cleaned up. We are going to sleep on it, and if you still ask for the cage tomorrow morning, I’ll allow it.” 

“I love you,” Blaine says softly, but with every bit of passion he has behind it. 

“I know, pet, and I love you.”

 


	18. Realism

 

In hindsight, Blaine may have been hasty. The first time he asked Kurt for the cock cage, he had been caught up in the emotion of it all, and the second time, he had been entranced by the beautiful morning-after glow. 

It’s not like he has never worn a cock cage before, but it has always been temporary, lasting only as long as the scene. What Blaine asked for was more permanent. He loves the feeling of being completely owned - heart, soul, and body, including his cock. And after the beautiful session they had with the stocking, Blaine, as he has done many times, just wanted to pour his heart out, and offer Kurt something sacred. 

Kurt is an exceptional dominant. He gave Blaine time to retract his request, space to think, and ample time to ask questions and discuss how it was all going to work. But the next morning, the moment Blaine opened his eyes, he asked Kurt again. 

Kurt didn’t deny him. He did, however, talk to Blaine about the parameters of it all, about how he was going to keep Blaine safe (wearing and washing instructions), and about his expectations. Only after Blaine confirmed his understanding, did Kurt agree to allow Blaine to wear the cage - in stages. 

Blaine is in the middle of one of those stages, now. It’s the third day in a row that his cock has been trapped in silicone, with only a three-minute reprieve each morning to wash and dry before Kurt slips it back on him. This evening, after Kurt fucks him for the sixth time in three days, he will get to take it off. Kurt may be concerned and aware of Blaine’s cock being confined so tightly, but they discussed it in great detail, and Blaine still asked for it; Kurt wasn’t going to necessarily go easy on him. 

Blaine tries not to watch the clock, but it’s difficult because Kurt has teased him repeatedly. His cock is aching in its confinement. Blaine knows that once the cage is off, his erection will grow quickly and painfully. He only hopes Kurt will take mercy on him and allow him to come. A free cock doesn’t automatically mean an orgasming cock. 

So Blaine tries to distract himself with cleaning. He’s vacuumed, swept, mopped, dusted, cleaned the kitchen and bathrooms, and now he’s in the playroom wiping down all the surfaces and aligning all their toys into perfect rows. When he’s done that, it will be time to move onto the specific task that Kurt asked him to do today; he’s been putting it off as long as possible. 

Finally, Blaine approaches the wooden tree that is adorned with all their glass dildos. Kurt had instructed him to hand-wash each one with soap and water and to make sure he uses his palm and fingertips to scrub along every ridge and curve. One by one, Blaine takes them into the bathroom and cleans them with warm sudsy water; each ornament provides memories for Blaine’s mind and makes warmth coil in his belly. The way Kurt had used them - him… it was so hard, so deep, and so extraordinarily good. Blaine whimpers as he rubs the glass and rinses all the suds away. The more he washes, the needier and hornier he becomes. Blaine feels very vividly when his cock pushes, futilely, against the silicone. After a while it becomes painful, because whatever give the cage provided, which wasn’t much at all, has maxed out. Despite the pain, Blaine’s need grows. He really, really wants the cage off so that his cock can stiffen freely, and even maybe be allowed release. 

“Pet?” 

Hearing Kurt’s voice adds fuel to the fire. 

“In… in here, Sir,” Blaine exhales the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and leans heavily against the bathroom counter. 

When Kurt appears in the doorway Blaine physically whimpers. He tries to right himself and gather up the ornaments to put them back onto the tree. “I’m … just fin-finishing up. Let me dry these and … and hang them back up. It will… I’ll only take a min-ute.” 

**“Blackbird!”**

When Kurt’s use of their safe word registers with Blaine, his eyes go wide in shock. 

“Blaine. Leave them, and take off your pants.” 

“Kurt…” 

“Blaine, please, just do as I’ve asked.” 

Blaine sets the dildos down, unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants down in one fell swoop. He looks down at his straining cock. It’s blurry through the clear silicone, but he can see the veins pumping blood into it faithfully, and can see the head of his cock attempting to squeeze out through the slit in the cage’s tip. Before Blaine knows it, Kurt has his caged cock in his palm as his fingers release the clasp, pulling gently. When Blaine’s cock swings free, he moans. It’s liberating and it produces such emotion in him that he can’t help but tear up.

 

+

 

Blaine doesn’t remember how he got to the bed; all he knows is that he’s on his back with a rock hard erection and tears streaming down his cheeks. Kurt is beside him caressing his bicep and chest, and whispering words of encouragement. 

“You’re ok, sweetheart. It’s off now.”

“I don’t want it off,” Blaine protests. 

“Yes, you do…” 

“No, Sir, please…” 

“Blaine, listen to me.” Kurt’s eyes are dark and serious, but the tone of his voice is laced with worry, and with love. 

Blaine shuts his eyes and rolls into him, his arms wrapping around and grasping the back of Kurt’s shirt. 

“I know what’s going on, sweetheart. You are feeling your submission so deeply, and have been for a while. And maybe you’ve been having trouble expressing it, and I haven’t been doing a good job of picking up on that…” 

“It’s not your fault,” Blaine says emphatically as he peers up, his gaze is wet and honey-laced. 

“No, it isn’t,” Kurt agrees, “but it isn’t yours either. It just is.” 

Blaine sighs and falls back onto the pillow. 

“Listen, baby, we are so connected. Our bond is so strong. I understand your blossoming need to show me just how much you love me and want to submit to me. I sometimes have that same problem. I think, my God, how do I show Blaine how I feel? How could I possibly communicate my ever-increasing love, my need to guide you and keep you safe, and so much more?” Kurt takes a breath because he’s overwhelmed, too. “Blaine, I understand. And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t show these things to me, or that you shouldn’t find new ways to communicate your love and devotion – you should, you absolutely should. But I don’t think this is the way to do it, baby. I don’t think you’re ready for the cage, long term.” 

Blaine cries. He feels like a disappointment. He feels like he’s failed. And, worst of all, he feels like he’s let Kurt down. 

“No, no, baby. I love you,” Kurt says, picking up on Blaine's body language as he swallows down his own emotion. “I am not disappointed in you. I am actually so, so proud of you, sweetheart. You went out on a limb and offered me something so sacred, even though you were scared. We are learning together, Blaine. What have we always said, huh? We are both a work in progress. But our love is thriving, and nothing will ever take that way – nothing can touch this, Blaine.” 

“I love you, so, so, so deeply, Kurt.” 

“I love you too, husband, and I’m sorry that I even mentioned putting the cage on you long term. I should have discussed it with you first.” 

“You did discuss it after I asked for it, and I know that in your own gentle way you tried to protect me and lead me away from it, but I wanted to deepen my submission to you so badly that I pushed through my trepidation. But you knew.” 

“I had a hunch. You know why?” 

Blaine looks at Kurt with red-rimmed eyes and shrugs. 

“For as long as I’ve known you, Blaine Anderson-Hummel, you have had this beautiful, fantastic, and abstract view of love, and as we’ve grown together, you’ve developed that same view with your submission. That wondrous view is what drew me to you in the first place. All of a sudden I had met a boy who had the same sense of romance as I did; you dreamed the same dreams I did. And you have carried that through in your heart, and have shown it in your love for me until this day.” 

Kurt pauses to kiss Blaine’s lips softly and pull a light blanket over his naked body, now that he’s a little calmer and less warm. “But carrying out the practicality of something that is maybe more of a fantasy – like wearing a cock cage round the clock - can be sobering, and shocking. In theory, wearing a cage for me, long term, sounds so beautiful, but carrying out the realism of that can be scary.” 

Blaine visibly relaxes. “Thank you for knowing me.” 

“It’s my infinite pleasure.” 

“You’re right. I just have been feeling so… drawn to my submission… so ready for something more. I think I just need some guidance on how to communicate that.” 

“We’ll work on it. And if you want to try the cage again, we can, but it will be in short spurts of time, and under supervision. We’ll work up to it if it’s something you really want.” 

“It is. And that is the realism talking, not just the fantasy.” 

Kurt smiles at him and squeezes his hip. “Noted. Now what do you say we order in some sushi and put on a movie. I think we are both in desperate need of some snuggle time.” 

Blaine kisses Kurt’s cheek with a smack and says, “Extra ginger and wasabi for me, please!”

 


	19. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of the 24, this chapter is my favourite... for reasons.

 

“Dr. Anderson, do you fancy going home early?” Dr. Ryan, the children’s ward managing physician, asks approaching Blaine at the wash station. “Dr. Reimer was erroneously scheduled to start early, so she’s already here.” 

Blaine pulls two paper towels out of the dispenser and dries his hands, “If she wants to go back home or relax, I don’t mind staying.” 

“You know her. The word ‘relax’ is not in her vocabulary, and I’d prefer it if you went home instead. You’ve been here for ten hours already. Consider it a Christmas bonus.” 

Blaine laughs, “How very kind of you. Today is my last shift until the New Year. Are you sure you don’t mind?” 

“Positive,” Dr. Ryan slaps Blaine’s shoulder affectionately. “You’ve earned the break. Go home early and get some rest.” 

Blaine takes off his lab coat and folds it neatly before putting it in his satchel. “I’ll just wrap up the paperwork then and be on my way. Merry Christmas, Dr. Ryan!” 

After making his notes and handing over pending information to Dr. Reimer, Blaine leaves the hospital and walks quickly to the subway. He wasn’t expecting to be off two hours early, so he’s excited to get home and into vacation mode. Plus, Kurt has already signed off at the studio for the remainder of the month, so he should be home, too. Neither one of them is due back to work until the second week of January. 

When Blaine arrives home, he takes the stairs up to his apartment, giddy with excitement and with the hope of convincing Kurt to take a warm bubble bath for two, before starting on their Christmas movie marathon. He opens the door quietly, though, in case Kurt is napping. He toes off his shoes, hangs up his coat, and is about to go change out of his scrubs when he hears Kurt’s voice talking to someone. Blaine doesn’t recall if they were expecting company today. Before he can go investigate to see who has stopped by (and why they’re not in the living room or kitchen), he hears Kurt speak again. 

“Stay. No. Don’t move.” 

Kurt’s tone is demanding, but not unkind. Blaine is very, very familiar with that tone of voice, as well as with those words, and hearing them even indirectly elicits warmth to stir in his belly. 

“I said stay,” Kurt’s voice has escalated a little. Blaine hears it loud and clear. 

Blaine wraps his arms around himself; all of a sudden, he is hyper-aware that he’s eavesdropping, but he can’t bring himself to stop because Kurt is speaking to someone in a way that is (otherwise) reserved only for him. 

“Don’t move from that spot until I command you to.” 

There should be no one else that Kurt speaks to in that way. That voice is Kurt demanding attention and obedience, although something about it is different and Blaine can’t pinpoint what it is. But none the less, those are the commands that only Blaine should hear, and only Blaine should respond to. 

“I said stay. Don’t make me get the leash.” 

All the blood drains from Blaine’s face and he, suddenly, feels weak and cold. Why is Kurt speaking like that? _Who_ is he speaking to like that? Who is Kurt dominating in their playroom - the room that is theirs and theirs alone? No one else has ever been in there, for any reason. 

“Bum to the floor. You’ll get the toy if you’re a good boy and listen to me.” 

Blaine hears shuffling in the room and he closes his eyes because hearing this is too much. It’s actually infuriating. He doesn’t believe that Kurt would ever take on another sub, especially without asking him first – and even then, just no. And Kurt would never cheat on him. Blaine _knows_ that – yet, it’s clear that Kurt is not alone. Unless… he’s practicing? For Blaine? But Kurt needs no practice – especially not with these simple, basic commands. 

Blaine hears Kurt snap his fingers once and then, in an authoritative voice, say, “Come.” 

Blaine presses his hand over his mouth to stifle a harsh gasp. He knows in his heart that Kurt wouldn’t do this to him, to their relationship, to their bond, but he just commanded someone to come. Blaine doesn’t understand. He doesn’t comprehend what’s happening. His body starts to shake; Blaine doesn’t know if it’s from anxiety or from rage. 

“That’s a good boy!” Kurt says, clapping. 

Blaine has heard enough. He can’t stand here in his own living room and listen to another sub be praised by _his_ dominant … his _husband_. He just can’t. So he gathers his courage and storms into their playroom ready to scream at whoever is naked on the floor that Kurt is his dominant, and that he can just put his clothes on and get the fuck out of their home, and Kurt, how could you do this… 

“Blaine!” Kurt squeals and drops to the floor with his hands behind his back, clearly trying to hide something… someone. And that someone is not a very good sub at all, because he’s squirming behind Kurt. And Kurt is doing everything in his power to shield him from Blaine’s sight, but Blaine is not having it. 

“Kurt, what the hell is going on? Let me see.” 

“Sweetheart, you weren’t supposed to see him yet.” 

Kurt’s placating tone and owlish eyes only serve to infuriate Blaine more. “Who is he, Kurt?” Blaine demands. 

“What?” 

Just then, Kurt loses control of the collar, and a chocolate brown Labrador retriever puppy with the largest paws, the floppiest ears, and the bluest eyes skids out clumsily from behind Kurt and bounds over to where Blaine is standing. 

“Oh my God,” Blaine blurts out. The puppy is so excited and playful, that he jumps up so that his paws are on Blaine’s knees and his whole butt is wagging. 

“Kurt! Ohhh…” Blaine kneels down and the puppy jumps into his lap and licks at his face. “Look at you!” Blaine’s face lights up brighter than the whole sun. “Kurt! Who is this? Oh my God. It’s a puppy, Kurt!” 

“Yes, Blaine it is, but why are you home early?” 

Blaine is distracted for a moment while he hugs the dog to his chest, so he doesn’t notice the slight annoyance in Kurt’s voice and body language. “Umm, the hospital had enough coverage so I got to start my vacation early.” He looks down at the puppy, which has now hunkered down into Blaine’s lap. “He’s adorable, Kurt, but whose is he?” 

“Well,” Kurt sighs, “he was just here for me to get a little bit of training into him before I took him back to the housing kennel. I wanted to get one more session in with him before Christmas.” 

Blaine looks at him, the confusion evident on his face. “Why are you training dogs now?” 

Kurt laughs. “Oh my God, Blaine. I’m not training dogs. I’m training _your_ dog.” 

“My… OH! He’s mine?” 

“All yours, sweetheart; he was supposed to be your Christmas gift. I just didn’t want him to be completely unruly by the time you got him, but it turns out he is much better behaved with you.” Kurt motions towards the sleeping puppy, which is now draped across Blaine’s lap and sleeping soundly. “My dominance must only work on humans.” 

Blaine is speechless for a moment as he stares down at his new puppy. He gently nudges him off to lie on the floor beside him, then tackles Kurt until he’s atop him, with Kurt on his back. “Thank you, honey. I’ve wanted a puppy for as long as I can remember. You spoil me so much.” 

Kurt leans up to kiss him. “You’re welcome, pet. I tried to pick the cutest one.” 

“He’s perfect. You’re perfect. You both have blue eyes and big paws,” Blaine laughs. 

“If you say we both have floppy ears I’m going to have to punish you,” Kurt warns, mirthfully. 

“No, but you both have the wiggliest butts I’ve ever seen.”

 

+

 

Later, after Blaine has gone shopping and spent a ridiculous amount of time setting up his new pup’s food and water dishes in the perfect spot just off the kitchen, and fluffing up his over-sized bed and setting it up in the corner of their bedroom (far away from Kurt’s wardrobe because, “so help me, Blaine, if that dog gets one hair on my designer stuff, he’ll be out on the street”), and taking him for a long walk around Central Park, Blaine collapses on the couch on top of his husband while the dog sleeps by the fireplace. 

“It looks like being a dog dad is hard work,” Kurt says and tugs Blaine close. 

“It totally is, and I know I’m going to have to figure out doggy daycare and obedience classes, and grooming, and vet and a whole bunch of other stuff, but Kurt, I love him so much. And even though I know I’ll be exhausted, it’s worth it because he’s perfect!” 

Kurt grins at Blaine’s enthusiasm, “Yeah, he is pretty great. Have you decided on a name yet?” 

Blaine nods and says, proudly, “Yes. His name is Bean.” 

“Like coffee bean, because of his colour?” 

“And because coffee is sort of our thing,” Blaine adds. 

“It really is, isn’t it? When I saw him at the shelter I fell in love with his colour, and I knew you would, too. And despite his excitement, he is pretty well behaved. Before you barged in he was listening pretty well.” 

Blaine’s face grows serious. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I don’t think I’ve had a chance to say it properly, but I’m sorry I barged in like that, and that I ruined your Christmas surprise.” 

“It’s okay, baby. As long as you like him, it doesn’t matter that you got him now or on Christmas morning. He’s yours.” Kurt pauses for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts for what he wants to say. “But I do want to talk to you about something.” 

Blaine looks up into Kurt’s eyes and knows immediately what’s troubling him. “I’m sorry I doubted you.” 

“I have to admit when you said ‘who is he?’ it stung a little. But I’ve had time to think about it and although I can’t say I completely understand it, I suppose its human nature.” 

“But it’s not our nature. I just… the things you were saying sounded exactly like some of the things you say to me. And since I wasn’t in the room, my mind put a million thoughts into my head that I didn’t actually believe. I just couldn’t explain them otherwise, especially considering you were in our playroom.” 

Blaine presses closer, and Kurt slides his fingers into his curls. 

“I never thought that you would have a dog in there,” Blaine continues, “It never crossed my mind that you would get me a dog anyway, because I know you hate hair on your clothes and would hate to have pee on the carpet, and loud barking, and stinky dog breath, and picking up after him…” 

“Hey,” Kurt stops him with a gentle tug to his hair. “It’s alright, Blaine. I understand how it must’ve sounded, and how being in the playroom heightened it all. If the roles were reversed I can’t say that I wouldn’t have thought the same thing as you in that moment. And for the record, we were in the playroom because I wasn’t sure he wouldn’t pee on the carpet. You know the playroom is easy clean up.” 

“I understand that now. I’m so sorry, though. I know better, I do. I know your heart and your devotion,” Blaine laments. 

“Baby, I have to say it,” Kurt’s hand finds Blaine’s and he laces their fingers together. “I have never and will never, under any circumstances, cheat on you.” 

“I know…”

“And I don’t have any desire whatsoever to take on or entertain another sub – not in your presence, and not out of your presence. It will just never happen, Blaine. You are it for me. I told you that when we were married, and if I have to, I will tell you every day of my life until I die. You are the only one.” 

Blaine has tears in his eyes. “Me, too. And I don’t know what came over me in that moment, but I know that. I know you would never.” 

“I love you, Blaine,” Kurt says and kisses him, his own eyes tear-filled. “But now it’s time to move on. We are devoted to each other, we love each other, and we are moving past this misunderstanding.” 

“Yes. It’s in the past, and we have so much to look forward to in our future.” 

“For one,” Kurt adds, “we are on vacation. We can laze around all day in bed in our pyjamas, or underwear, or nothing for that matter, and watch movies, and enjoy our friends, and go to the museums, and spend all our time in our playroom or in our bed…” 

Suddenly, Bean gets up and stretches, maybe sensing that he is missing out on something. He trots over to where Kurt and Blaine are wrapped up in each other on the couch. He whimpers quietly then places his head on Kurt’s thigh. 

“Oh my God, he’s just like me,” Blaine says. 

“He totally is. You two are going to be like two peas in a pod,” Kurt says. “I can already see the trouble the both of you will get into.” 

Blaine’s eyes light up with mischief, and he reaches down to scratch at Bean’s ears. 

“I think he was having a serious case of F.O.M.O., because not once did we mention him in our vacation plans,” Kurt says. 

“Oh, Kurt, you’re right. But we are going to have fun walking him and playing with him…” 

“Wait, we?” Kurt asks. “He’s your dog, not mine.” 

Blaine looks at him, knowingly. “I know it won’t take long for him to have you wrapped around his big paw.” 

Kurt rolls his eyes then looks down at Bean, who still has his head in his lap and is regarding him with pale blue eyes. “One hair, Bean, one hair on my clothing is all it will take to turn you out onto the street.” 

“Kurt!” 

Kurt laughs. 

Blaine pets Bean’s head and whispers down to him “Don’t worry about him; his bark is bigger than his bite.” 

“Oh, I think it’s time I give you a reminder on just how big my bite can be, pet.” 

Blaine kisses Kurt’s lips, and whispers, “Okay.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to mention that I consciously left out any reference to Blaine's canonical cheating for three reasons.... 1. It would have gotten much too long, because I don't think Blaine's and Kurt's emotions about that incident, even so many years later, can be summed up in just a few sentences. 2. I wanted to keep this chapter a little lighter. Incorporating what happened in canon would have made this chapter much angstier. 3. BLAINE CHEATING ON KURT IS OUT OF CHARACTER, I DON'T CARE WHAT GLEE SAYS. :P


	20. Nutcracker

 

Kurt loves the ballet. It makes him feel nostalgic for his childhood, and for his mother. Every time Kurt sees a live performance he goes home feeling inspired and happy, and his demeanor is soft and vulnerable. And the next day’s sketches are always inspired. 

Blaine loves to see Kurt this way – happy, soft, and full of life, so Blaine takes him to as many performances as their schedules allow. Blaine lives to surprise Kurt, and surprising him with ballet tickets is one of his favourite ways to make Kurt smile. Kurt’s face lights up, and Blaine’s arms get filled with a squealing, bouncy husband. 

“I’m glad you decided on the matinee,” Kurt says, as they make their way from the cab and into the theatre, eager to take in Blaine’s latest surprise. “I don’t want to deal with the ice-storm tonight. By the time it hits, we’ll be at home nice and cozy by the fire.” 

“I’m just glad I was able to get tickets,” Blaine says, as they file into the theatre and he gives the tickets to the doorwoman. “I wouldn’t have been happy with myself if I had missed the opportunity to take you to see this classic. I know we’ve seen it, but it never gets old, especially during this time of year.” 

“You spoil me,” Kurt smiles at Blaine. They make their way through the crowd, Blaine’s hand gentle on Kurt’s back, leading him toward the entrance to the loge. 

“Sir, I think I’m the one who’s been spoiled tonight,” Blaine leans in to whisper, and then takes a program from the usher, giving her a warm smile as he passes. He guides Kurt to their seats, which is a front-and-center box seat, providing them with a perfect view of the stage. 

“Aren’t you going to sit, sweetheart?” Kurt asks from his seat. 

“Of course,” Blaine says. He takes off his coat and sits tenderly into the bucket seat beside Kurt, draping the garment over his lap. 

“You’re lucky it’s winter. What would you do if you had no coat to hide it?” Kurt whispers into his ear. 

Blaine swallows. “Then, I would have to beg you to go easy on me, Sir,” Blaine whispers back. 

“For that you would have to do a whole lot of begging, beautiful.” Kurt answers with a wink. 

Soon, the lights flicker, signaling that the ballet is about to start, and the lingering crowd takes their seats. Kurt gets comfortable, leaning in close to his husband and slips his hand to rest on Blaine’s thigh beneath his coat. 

When the curtain draws up and the music begins, Blaine eyes are only on Kurt. Kurt’s attention is on the stage as the opening scene begins to play out. Blaine knows that Kurt is awestruck by the classic set design and the exquisite costumes. Kurt’s face looks mesmerized as the ballerinas march, and Blaine can’t help but smile at how Kurt completely immerses himself into the show. Blaine leans close and presses his lips to Kurt’s temple. 

Kurt’s turns to face him and Blaine whimpers softly under his gaze. “Are you enjoying the show, Sir?” 

“Yes, I am. Are you?” Kurt asks, and squeezes the inside of Blaine’s thigh. “Or should I make it a little more exciting for you?” 

“I could watch you all night, Sir. You are beautiful.” 

Kurt smiles discerningly and turns back towards the stage, watching as the gifts are distributed, and the music turns livelier. Kurt’s attention seems to be on the ballet once again, but Blaine knows that Kurt’s is always aware of what is happening with his submissive; after all, Kurt is the one who made him choose the plug Blaine is wearing this afternoon, as well as the testicle cuff that currently adorns his sack. Kurt wouldn’t do that if he had no intention of following through with making Blaine regret, or maybe celebrate, his choices. 

When Blaine feels Kurt’s hand slide up and dig his fingers into the pocket of his dress pants, he knows the show is really about to start. Blaine is relaxed because, even though they’re in public, the theatre is dark enough, and his coat is adequately covering up anything that may be visible. In addition, they spoke about it ahead of time. Kurt told Blaine yesterday that he would require him to be filled and adorned for the ballet, and that it would be a good way for Blaine to quench his ever-growing need of submitting deeper. 

Blaine is so on board with it. He yearns to be dominated and to be at Kurt’s beck and call. He needs to be teased and edged solely for Kurt’s pleasure. He craves to be used. He’s eager to be whatever Kurt wants him to be. And if that means he’s watching The Nutcracker Suite with the bright pink silicone plug up his ass, and the wide steel ring fit snugly around his balls (or “nuts” as Kurt had called them this morning, because “I think it’s appropriate for me to crack those nuts on the day we see The Nutcracker, Blaine”), then so be it. 

What surprises Blaine, is when Kurt prods into his pocket and discreetly takes out a small vile of what Blaine can only assume is lube. Before he can analyze it too much, Kurt is one-handedly tugging open his belt and unzipping his pants beneath his coat. The problem of tugging down his underwear is non-existent because Blaine was told to go without. 

Kurt’s face gives away nothing. To the casual observer it looks as though Kurt is enjoying a beautiful ballet. Although that may be true, at least some of Kurt’s attention is on Blaine, because Blaine’s cock is swiftly and smoothly being tugged out of his pants by Kurt’s very capable fingers. When Blaine’s cock is slathered with lube, he sinks deeper into his seat and closes his eyes. 

Blaine gasps suddenly, when he realizes very quickly that the lube Kurt has chosen is heat activated; it makes his cock prickle with warmth and, once the friction sets in, the heat is only enhanced. Blaine moans so softly that it’s inaudible to anyone… but Kurt. 

Kurt definitely hears it if the soft upturn of his lip is anything to go by. “Isn’t Clara spectacular?” Kurt asks, nodding towards the stage. “Her lines are divine.” 

Blaine opens his mouth to answer, but closes it again when Kurt’s fist encloses his thickening shaft and starts rubbing. He’s not stroking but just spreading the lube all along his shaft and head, and then his hand reaches down past the metal testicle cuff and coats his balls too. 

Blaine’s head floats as he gives in to everything Kurt is doing to him. His ass is full, his cock and adorned balls are completely out of his pants and being stroked, and there is absolutely nothing he can say or do to show that anything is abnormal. So he watches the ballet, and tries to be a good boy while he takes all of Kurt’s ministrations. 

“It’s a little warm in here,” Kurt whispers. “Do you want to put your coat on the back of your chair?” 

“No,” Blaine says immediately, maybe a little too loudly. 

“Ok, pet,” Kurt coos, and with his next breath he tightens his fist and begins stroking in a slow, thorough rhythm. His fist caresses Blaine from base to head and back down again to fondle his balls. The rhythm is achingly slow, as to not cause the coat to move and draw attention to their activity, but even so, Kurt does not leave one inch untouched. 

It goes on in that manner; Kurt is captivated with the ballet and enthralled with using Blaine. Blaine can’t do anything but try to not buck up into Kurt’s slick twisting fist. He closes his eyes, grips the arms of his chair and bites his lip when it gets to be too much, but when he does things that might attract attention, Kurt brings him out of it by easing up a little and making comments about the ballet itself. Blaine has to calm himself down in order to respond, and then it starts all over again. 

When it’s close to intermission, Kurt leans in closer, placing his cheek on Blaine’s shoulder so that he can whisper inconspicuously into Blaine ear. “During intermission, you are going to the washroom. Once you’re inside the stall, drop your pants, bend over, reach back, and tug the plug out of your asshole... then push it back in. I want it popping out and popping back in fifty times. Be thorough.” 

“Oh God…” 

“Oh, look. This is where the Nutcracker turns into the Prince.”

 

+

 

Blaine presses his palm to the door of the bathroom stall and bends forward as his pants puddle around his ankles. His free hand reaches back and grasps at the pink base of the plug. He slowly slides it out until it pops.  Blaine cringes, because the squelching, popping sound seems louder than usual. Kurt hadn’t accounted for the acoustics in the bathroom. On second thought, maybe he had. Blaine can only hope no one is the wiser. 

Despite the sound, Blaine slides the plug back into his ass and quickly finds a rhythm. He counts in his head, taking absolutely no shortcuts. Even though he’s not there, Kurt would know, and why would Blaine want to take a shortcut anyway? The slow slide of the plug, the lagging stretch of his rim, and the knowledge that Kurt is back in his seat thinking about it all, makes Blaine feel so smutty, so horny. 

When he’s pushed in fifty times and popped out fifty times, he finishes by pressing the plug deeply back into his ass with a stifled moan. He takes a moment for his hitched breath to quiet and his racing heart to calm, and then he slides his pants back on and secures the belt. The tenting in his pants is obvious; his cock has been hard ever since Kurt lubed it up during the first act of the ballet. Blaine takes his coat and holds it in front of him. It may be a little noticeable, and he’s going to have to maneuver just right so that he can wash his hands. It’s all he’s got to work with, though, and he’s eager to get back to his seat and to his husband. Besides, it’s not the first time he’s used his coat to hide his erection, and he’s sure it won’t be the last. 

Once Blaine is sitting again, Kurt slides a hand beneath the coat to graze over Blaine’s clothed cock, squeezing as a way of inspection. “Good boy. I can tell you didn’t take any shortcuts,” Kurt whispers. 

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“How did it feel?” 

“Dirty.” 

“Mmm. You’re such a good slut,” Kurt whispers very softly directly into his ear. 

“Yours,” Blaine answers. 

“You definitely are,” Kurt agrees. “And you’re going to prove it to me.” 

The lights dim at the start of the second half. Kurt cozies up to Blaine and focuses his attention on the stage, but as the music begins, Kurt tilts his gaze up at Blaine while his hand deftly undoes his belt and slides back into his pants. “By the time I’m done with you, these pants will be sticky wet for me.” 

“Please…” 

“Shhh, pet, act two is my favourite.” 

As the Sugar Plum Fairy takes the stage, Kurt takes Blaine in hand and milks him all the way through the second act; his strokes are lewd and unrelenting. When the final waltz begins, Kurt reaches down to unclasp the testicle cuff, and soon Blaine is releasing his own celebration of sweets into his dress pants. 

Once Kurt has wiped his hand clean with Blaine’s handkerchief, he leans in to kiss Blaine’s wet, panting mouth and whispers against it, “I love the ballet, but not as much as I love making you come.”

 


	21. Solstice

 

“The moon is so lovely tonight,” Kurt observes. 

He’s sitting at his desk trying to work through his year-end expenses. “Usually I hate doing this - you should know, I whine and complain about them every year - but I think I’ve found a way for them to not be so taxing. Expenses aren’t so bad when doing them by moonlight. I wish you could see it, pet.” 

Blaine is clad in black latex from head to toe. The bodysuit fits him like a second-skin and leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Kurt had helped him squeeze into it before positioning him on his knees with his face pressed to the floor and his ass perched as high as Blaine can manage. His legs are bound together with leather straps at the thighs, calves, and ankles, as are his arms at the biceps, elbows, and wrists, which have been placed behind his back as far as Blaine shoulders can reach. 

The visual is stunning. Kurt can’t help but direct his attention, often, to the floor where Blaine’s shiny black suit reflects the soft light of the room.  Every inch of Blaine’s body is covered in latex, with the exception of his mouth and nose and his bare, plump ass, which is glowing a bright red due to the spanking Kurt administered earlier. 

Kurt had wanted to go out and celebrate the winter solstice and full moon, but Blaine was more inclined to have a quiet evening in. Kurt suggested a compromise: a long afternoon walk in Central Park to give them (and Bean) a little bit of exercise, followed by a quiet evening at home. “I guess if we’re not going to venture out and enjoy the full solstice moon, I’m going to have to recreate it inside,” Kurt had told Blaine. 

So into the latex suit Blaine went, and when Kurt saw how full and round Blaine’s exposed ass looked as it bulged out of the hole in the suit’s bottom, he took Blaine over his knee and spanked him without reservation. “The moon is full,” Kurt had said, caressing Blaine’s ass cheeks, “but it’s not nearly bright enough. Let’s make it glow, baby.” 

Kurt flips his laptop down and puts away his receipts. He goes to the kitchen to make a cup of lemon tea to have while he sits by the fire and devotes all of his attention to his submissive, who has been obediently presenting his full moon so perfectly all evening. 

The spanking was hard. Kurt has gotten quite adept at using his hand to administer slaps to Blaine’s ass. Both he and Blaine love the intimacy that a spanking session offers them. They use it, not only as forms of play and discipline, but as a way to deepen their already tight connection. Kurt has experimented with different instruments (paddles, floggers, crops, canes, belts…) and although they dabble with all of them, their go-to is skin on skin, palm to bottom. There is something about feeling Blaine’s ass jiggle under his palm that gets Kurt’s heart pumping, and something about Kurt’s firm, strong hand bouncing off his bottom that makes Blaine feel so loved and so owned. 

Once Blaine was outfitted in latex and in position over Kurt’s knee, Kurt used his palm to smack Blaine’s cheeks in turn. It started out as light swatting but grew exponentially harder as Kurt continued to swing. The feeling of Blaine’s supple and malleable flesh, coupled with the echoing sounds of impact, spurred Kurt on. 

Blaine couldn’t hear the slaps as crisply as Kurt could, nor could he see Kurt’s eyes grow mischievous and his cheeks become rosy, thanks to the latex hood covering his eyes and ears. But Blaine definitely could feel the relentless spanking and intermittent squeezing on his tender behind. The moans tumbled endlessly from Blaine’s mouth and those, too, encouraged Kurt. 

By the time Kurt was done and ready to start strap Blaine up in his kneeling position, he was panting and his palm was sore. But Blaine was feeling it much more than Kurt ever would. His ass was painfully red, his chest was rising and falling in rapidly, and his hands and toes were clenched as much as possible in their latex confinement. 

Now, as Kurt sips his tea, he caresses Blaine’s bruised ass gently; his fingers roaming slowly and softly along the still heated skin, as he listens to Blaine’s quiet moans. A bit later, when he’s finished his tea, and Blaine’s moans have turned to cooing, Kurt opens up the tub of aloe soothing gel and begins to smooth it over Blaine’s bottom.  “Is that better, pet?” He asks. 

“It feels good, Sir, thank you.” 

“Good boy. When I’m done tending to your bottom it’ll be bedtime for me, pet.” 

When Kurt doesn’t elaborate, Blaine asks, “And for me, Sir?” 

“Oh no, baby. The moon stays out until dawn breaks.” 

Blaine remains silent as Kurt switches to the other cheek, soothing it with the gel. Kurt holds out, knowing that Blaine has more to say. 

“But...” Blaine starts to say then hesitates. “But, Sir, I… I want to sleep with you.” 

“The moon doesn’t sleep at night, Blaine,” Kurt says, trying to hide the amusement in his voice. 

“How about I don’t sleep then?” Blaine suggests. “How about I stay up all night just like the moon, but from our bed? I just really want to be with you - make love to you.” 

How can Kurt ever say no to that? He puts away the gel, and kneels beside Blaine. Kurt’s hand roams the latex, caressing every inch of Blaine. He starts at the top of his head and travels south, over the ridge of his straining shoulders, unlatching the straps as he goes. He bypasses Blaine’s glistening ass cheeks and massages down his legs until he’s tugging at the leather bindings. Once Blaine is unbound, Kurt carries him, latex and all, into their bedroom. Kurt places him down on the bed, with Blaine’s full moon facing the ceiling, of course, and unzips, peeling the latex off of Blaine’s sweaty body. 

Blaine’s curls are plastered to his head. His uncovered lashes flutter softly against the pillow, despite the darkness of the room. Kurt kisses between Blaine’s shoulder blades and down his spine, until he reaches Blaine’s heavy dangling cock and balls. “So big and full for me,” he murmurs, and dives in face first to lap, and kiss, and suck, and bite at Blaine’s most tender parts. 

The moon is not the only thing that stays up all night. There are certain things that even Kurt Anderson-Hummel sacrifices sleep for. Kurt and Blaine make love through the night, Kurt fondling Blaine’s bruised, full moon often, while Blaine howls in ecstasy. They finally give into asleep exhausted, huddled in each other’s arms, only when the full solstice moon gives way to the breaking dawn.

 


	22. Carol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for depictions of an anxiety attack.  
> Warning for mention of homophobia as it pertains to Glee's "Bash" episode.

 

Kurt steps into the living room clean from the shower and feeling cozy in sweat pants and a Henley. He’s just on his way to the kitchen to start on some homemade cinnamon buns for tomorrow’s breakfast (a request from his husband) when something makes him stop in his tracks. Blaine is standing at the window trembling and blankly staring outside with his arms hugging his body. 

“Blaine?” Kurt says. When Blaine doesn’t answer, Kurt moves to him quickly. “Blaine? Sweetheart, what’s the matter?” 

Blaine turns to him, his eyes moist and his eyebrows drawn together. “Kurt,” he breathes out and desperately pulls Kurt into his embrace. Kurt wraps his arms around him and waits for Blaine to speak. He knows he will; he just needs a moment. Blaine presses his face into the crook of Kurt’s neck and breathes in and out, mumbling against his skin. “There were carolers. I was playing the piano and during a pause I heard singing. When I looked out the window I saw a group across the street singing carols.” 

Kurt listens, but he is still not sure as to why Blaine is so upset. Blaine loves music and singing, and they have gone caroling many times; in the past, Blaine has thoroughly enjoyed the activity. 

“Why are you so upset, sweetheart?” Kurt asks and rubs Blaine’s arms in a soothing manner. 

“They were carrying candles, Kurt. And, I don’t know, I guess that just triggered me. All these memories came flooding into my mind. I mean, I know we weren’t caroling that time; it was a vigil, but still we were holding candles, and walking down the street, and it was winter and night time, and we were singing. I still remember the song, and God, Kurt, it was just a few days after… that it happened…” 

Blaine rambles as he recounts his memories. Kurt is realizing exactly why he is upset. Blaine’s quickening speech and breathing are big red flags for Kurt that Blaine is about to have a panic attack. He doesn’t have them often anymore – many things have helped Blaine with that, including their lifestyle – but when he does have them they can be long and substantial. Kurt has a variety of methods with which to help Blaine through them. He thinks he may need one now. 

“We sang ‘No One Is Alone’,” Blaine recounts, oblivious to Kurt’s growing concern. “For our neighbour’s friend, who was … in the hospital, and then, and then… you…” 

“Blaine, stop. You need to breathe or you’re going to have an anxiety attack. We don’t want that, baby. Just relax and breathe for me.” 

Blaine lifts his head, his gaze darting around blankly, not quite looking Kurt in the eyes. He takes a few quick breaths. “I know I put on a brave face for our friends and for Burt, and especially for you, but Kurt…” Blaine whispers and grasps Kurt’s hand, squeezing. “But when I heard that you had been… attacked… and then when I saw what they did I was so scared… and angry. I was so sad that someone had done that to your beautiful face, to your body, and to your spirit. The whole time you were unconscious I was falling apart inside and just trying to keep it together – for you.” 

“I’m perfectly fine…” 

“But you weren’t. I know you don’t regret it,” Blaine says animatedly. “I was and still am so proud of you, but I was the one who had to sit by your bed and see what they did to you, I sang to you to give myself courage… and so that I could feel like I was doing… something… I don’t ever want to relive that, Kurt. It could have been so much worse, and thinking about it even now makes me… it makes me… I… I just can’t…” 

Kurt snaps his fingers to get Blaine to focus on something else. He keeps snapping in a slow rhythm while he guides Blaine to the couch and sits him down, never releasing Blaine’s hand; the physical contact is something that has always grounded Blaine before. When Blaine’s attention is fully on him, Kurt stops snapping and speaks. “We will talk about your fears, baby, ok? But right now we need to pause. You need to calm down and breathe with me.” 

Blaine closes his eyes and Kurt keeps speaking quietly and in a calming voice, knowing that Blaine is anchoring to it as he takes in deep breaths – in and out. Kurt leads Blaine through a breathing exercise, inhaling and exhaling with him, and counting their breaths out loud. When he gets to 20, he stops. 

“Good boy,” Kurt praises, and rubs his thumb over Blaine’s knuckles. “That’s it, Blaine, just breathe. I’m here with you and I’m not going anywhere for a long time. I’m safe and sound, and happy, and I’m with you.” 

Blaine’s eyes are glassy, and although he is trying to stay on Kurt’s rhythm, he is having trouble regulating his breath. It’s sporadic and Kurt notices that Blaine’s hands are trembling. 

“Blaine, I’m going to hold you, skin to skin.” 

Blaine nods his consent. Kurt has done this before and it has made Blaine feel anchored and safe, and has allowed him to let go and only focus on keeping his breaths regular, and on clearing his mind of the triggering thoughts. 

Kurt takes off his Henley then unzips Blaine’s hoodie. He helps Blaine out of the garment and then carefully slips off his t-shirt, leaving both of them bare-chested. Kurt scoots back so that he’s leaning against the couch cushion and guides Blaine to straddle his lap, back to chest. Kurt wraps his arms around him as tight as he can, without impeding on Blaine’s working lungs. Once his arms are in place, Kurt latches his hand around his own forearm and holds on tight. 

Kurt simply holds Blaine and waits. He knows that the warmth of skin on skin goes a long way in calming Blaine. He presses his lips to the nape of Blaine’s neck and kisses him ever so gently. Then he starts whispering, guiding Blaine with his breathing again. “In, two, three, four, five… and out, two, three, four, five.” 

Kurt loses count as to how many rounds of breathing they do, but he doesn’t stop whispering, kissing, and holding. When he feels Blaine’s body begin to relax, he stays put, knowing that Blaine could relapse. Kurt isn’t sure how much time goes by, but time doesn’t matter. What matters is that Blaine is no longer having an anxiety attack and his breathing, as far as Kurt can tell, is normal. Kurt nuzzles into Blaine’s shoulder softly and waits for his submissive to come to him. 

“I think I suppressed it,” Blaine suddenly admits in a quiet voice. 

“Suppressed the memory of me getting attacked?” Kurt asks. He doesn’t want to be so blunt with his words, but he figures Blaine is safe in his arms so they may as well deal with it. 

Blaine nods. “It affected me so much, and you shrugged it off like it was nothing. I guess maybe you had to because thinking about it, about what it means, how people can be so cruel, it’s heavy. It’s not a nice image so you found the silver lining and forgot about it. But me… I had to bury it because thinking about losing you…” 

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says. 

“Sorry? No, Kurt, none of this is your fault.” 

Kurt turns Blaine in his lap and places his palm to Blaine’s face. “I did shrug it off because I didn’t know how to cope with it. I didn’t know how to act or what to feel. I had been dealing with bullying and homophobia my whole life – you know that – but never did I think for one moment that I would find that kind of hatred in New York. And I guess maybe I was a little embarrassed to admit my naiveté, that homophobia didn’t exist in such a large multicultural place. But I see now that shrugging it off made it look like it was no big deal, which probably made you feel unsafe to talk about it and your fears. I’m sorry, Blaine. I don’t think I’ve ever truly realized what the incident did to you.” 

“It made me scared; I can’t lose you Kurt, not then and not now. But you’re right. To two teenagers from Ohio, New York seemed like a safe haven, and when I realized that we are living among people who are just as ignorant and hateful as we saw in Ohio, it shook me.” Blaine pauses and takes a deep breath while Kurt pulls him into his chest. 

“I can’t believe I was triggered by something so wonderful and innocent like caroling.” 

“I can see how it would, though. It must’ve looked similar to the vigil and the images in your mind probably snowballed from there.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry I’m such a mess.” 

“Shush. You are not a mess, and even if you were, it’s nothing to apologize for. You just relived a scary time in your life – one which if I was faced with, I don’t know if I’d survive. You have every right to be anxious and emotional. And I’m glad you could tell me about it.” 

“I’m glad, too. I think I’ve been subconsciously holding that one in for a while.” 

“Will you promise me something?” Kurt asks. 

“Anything.” 

“I don’t want you to suppress this anymore. Will you come to me if you get anxious about it again? Or even if you just want to talk about it?” 

“Of course, but I want you to promise me that, too.” 

Kurt kisses Blaine’s lips, lingering along his mouth for a moment. “I promise.” 

“Mmm,” Blaine deepens the kiss and wraps his arms around Kurt’s shoulders. When they break apart, Blaine presses his forehead to Kurt’s. “Thank you, for helping me through the anxiety. You always know what I need.” 

“It’s a privilege I don’t take lightly.” 

Blaine smiles and leans in to peck more kisses to Kurt’s mouth. 

“I have an idea,” Kurt says as he pulls away gently. “I think we need to make new memories of caroling. We should get all our friends together with some candles and go door to door. Do you think that would help?” 

“I think it would, actually.” Blaine smiles brightly. “Thank you.” 

“Ooh and we could sing ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’” Kurt suggests. 

“I don’t know; There’s been some controversy over that song. It might not be a good idea.” 

“But it’s my favourite,” Kurt whines. 

“Well we can do it here in the privacy of our own home - just you and me.” Blaine waggles his brows. 

“You don’t want to invite the girls to sing it with us?” 

Blaine scoffs. “I’ve always told you, Kurt, you are much better than any girl could ever be.”

 


	23. Wire

 

Blaine loves to bake. More accurately, Blaine loves to bake with Kurt. Sometimes Kurt lets him mix the dry ingredients, sometimes the wet, sometimes he lets him roll out the dough, and sometimes Blaine gets to cut out the cookies or decorate them. Most often, they work together to make the treats. There are certain times, though, when Kurt is not in the mood to give up any control, Blaine is made to stand in the corner of the kitchen to watch and to help Kurt in an entirely different way. 

That is where he is now, standing nude with his legs wide apart, thanks to a spreader bar. Blaine doesn’t need the spreader bar. He is flexible and obedient, but Kurt likes it for the visual, more than anything. Blaine’s arms are displayed behind his head, right hand clasping his left wrist at the nape of his neck. His ass clenches tensely around the hand-held (ass-held?) stainless steel lemon reamer – the juicer part inside, of course, while the handle protrudes out. 

Blaine watches Kurt, who is adorably leaning over his Kitchen Aid, trying to get the consistency of the dough just right. Blaine knows when the dough is close to being finished by the satisfied smile that paints Kurt’s face. Kurt turns off the mixer, shapes the dough into a ball and flattens it into a disk. He wraps it and places it in the fridge so it can set. He quickly cleans up the mixing bowl and utensils and washes his hands before turning his full attention on Blaine. 

“The dough has to set for an hour at least,” he says. “I wonder what I should do with all that time.” 

Blaine bites his lip, wanting to speak.

 “Any suggestions, pet?” Kurt’s eyes are sly and so blue. 

“Would you take me to the playroom, Sir?” Blaine hopes that Kurt will want to play with him. 

“Oh, pet, why waste time on getting you all sorted in the playroom, when you’re already half way there? I’m sure I can find some perfectly adequate toys here in this very kitchen.” Kurt winks, and Blaine immediately knows that Kurt had this planned all along. 

Kurt moves to the drawer and takes out two large tea towels, one he sets on the counter and the other he gathers in his hands and twists. “Open up, baby.” 

Blaine opens his mouth and Kurt presses the towel horizontally into it, tying it securely behind his head just above Blaine’s hands. He digs into the pocket of his apron and places Blaine’s safety ball into his free hand. “There we go. Are you comfortable, pet?” 

Blaine closes his mouth as much as possible, which still leaves it open with the corners stretched around the towel. He nods and concentrates on breathing smoothly through his nose. 

“I love the sound of that. The way your nose has to work harder to draw in air is lovely, pet,” Kurt says and leans in to press a tender kiss to Blaine’s strained top lip just below his nostrils. He lingers there for a moment and Blaine holds his breath. “That’s my good boy.” 

Kurt turns away then and opens a drawer, fiddling with the utensils inside. One by one, he brings out what he needs and sets them in Blaine’s view on the tea towel. Blaine’s eyes widen when he sees the items: a pastry brush, a wooden spatula, a pastry wheel, and a wire whisk. Blaine knows what they are, but he hasn’t seen those particular ones before. They are different from the ones they usually use for baking, so he assumes Kurt bought them brand new purposefully for today’s activities. 

Kurt takes off his apron, revealing the simple, forest green sweater he has on underneath. Blaine loves the way the colour reflects in Kurt’s eyes. Kurt takes the pastry brush in hand and approaches Blaine. “I looked everywhere to find the perfect pastry brush, pet. This one has the smoothest and softest bristles I could find. I want this to feel good for you.” 

Blaine moans out something that sounds like, “thank you.” 

“I’ll know how it feels by how your body reacts, but you know I like to hear you; your moans sound so sexy when you’re gagged - so don’t be shy, baby.” Kurt brushes Blaine’s nipple very softly at first, dragging the bristles across the areola and nub. He works one for a few minutes then moves to the other, repeating the action. 

Already Blaine is moaning longingly, as he feels his nipples tightening up from the stimulation. 

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, pet? I like it, too. It makes your nipples look so delectable.” Kurt places the brush down on the tea towel and bends forward, latching his mouth onto Blaine’s sensitive nipple. 

Blaine moans louder as his back arches by its own accord, presenting and offering Kurt more. Kurt hums as he suckles, swiping his tongue along the still hardening nub. He uses his lips to trap and pull, sucking the entire area and then dragging his teeth thoroughly, until Blaine’s nipple pops out of his mouth tender and red. “It’s so gorgeous, Blaine,” Kurt murmurs. “It’s peaked and glistening wet and so hard.” He takes the brush and strums it along Blaine’s worked flesh again. Kurt gives Blaine’s other nipple the same attention, then repeats the pattern a few more times until Blaine is panting in short little puffs and moan after moan tumbles from his open mouth. 

Blaine tilts his head back as much as his hands will allow, since they are still clutched at the base of his neck. He dares not move them; they are precisely where Kurt wants them, no doubt showing off his biceps. He moans up into the room while Kurt uses his mouth again then the brush. His nipples ache with heat. 

Blaine loves it when Kurt plays with him. He is such a creative, attentive, and loving dominant, yet he’s strict enough to keep Blaine on his toes. Blaine already feels like he’s flying. He craves to be used in this manner, loves being controlled and edged into bliss. When Blaine feels the sharp smack against his thigh, his head snaps into place. 

“Face forward, my love. I want to see those beautiful, expressive eyes,” Kurt instructs and brings the wooden spatula down against Blaine’s inner thigh again. 

Blaine whimpers through the gag, but that only seems to spur Kurt on. Ten more swats travel the inside of Blaine’s thigh from his knee to the drop of his balls. Blaine flinches when Kurt gets so close to his sack. Deep down, though, Blaine knows that Kurt would never _hit_ them, not accidentally and not on purpose. 

“The smattering of colour left by my spatula looks beautiful against your skin, Blaine,” Kurt says as he stands back and admires. “The sight is so appealing that I think I’ll give you matching welts on your other thigh.” 

Before Blaine can register Kurt’s words, the spatula is landing on his tender flesh. Blaine cries out as his toes dig into the tile floor and his fist squeezes around his wrist. 

“Mmm, and I love what my spankings do to your cock, baby boy,” Kurt pants softly. Blaine watches as Kurt’s gaze falls on his growing cock, which he feels is hardening inch by inch.  He knows that soon enough it will be bouncing and dribbling for attention by its own volition. 

Kurt sets the spatula down and uses the brush to trace along Blaine’s nipples again, ensuring they don’t go unattended. “I want to keep these swollen and puffy,” Kurt says, and dips in again to suckle at each one in turn. When Kurt is done with them, he takes the spatula and swats Blaine’s defined abdomen. 

The impact is not as hard as it was on Blaine’s thighs, but Blaine feels the sharp bite of each blow just the same. Kurt works a pattern up his oblique, across his diaphragm (which takes Blaine’s already laboured breath away), and down the other oblique. “Relax your stomach,” Kurt instructs. “No clenching unless it’s done by your ass.” 

Blaine does his best to clench around the juicer while at the same time relax his stomach. He knows he gets it right when Kurt moans and swats his abs just above his navel again and again with quick short snaps of his wrists. Blaine loses count at fifteen. 

Kurt finally sets the spatula down and moves forward to kiss Blaine’s sweaty forehead. “You’re such a good boy, for me,” he says. 

Blaine whines, the towel in his mouth is soaked with spit, his eyes are glossy, and his legs, stomach and thighs are trembling. “Take a little break, baby. I need to roll out the dough now.” 

Blaine is grateful for the respite, but he couldn’t move even if he wanted to - and he really, really doesn’t want to. He knows Kurt isn’t done with him yet, far from it, and there is nowhere Blaine would rather be. The swatting stung, but it wasn’t intolerable; it was just on the right side of too much. His ass is so achingly full. His insides gave been getting a workout by the way he’s been clutching the reamer. If it were to fall the floor, Kurt would make him pay for it. His nipples are deliciously raw and his stomach and thighs are throbbing heat; Blaine can almost feel the waft of warmth that is radiating off them. By the end of the night, Kurt will leave him bruised, and Blaine is happy to know that those bruises will complement the markings he received on his ass the night previous. 

Blaine takes his well-deserved break. He watches Kurt wash his hands and prepare the counter to roll out the dough. Kurt’s arms look absolutely sinful working beneath his fitted sweater as he uses his muscles to roll out the dough to a perfect thickness. 

Kurt, who is a master baker, makes short work of rolling out the dough, cutting out the snowmen and star shapes, placing them on sheets and sliding them into the oven. While they bake, he cleans his counter and fills the dishwasher. Once the cookies are baked and cooling, Kurt washes his hands and focuses on Blaine again. 

“Pet, you’ve been so well behaved here in the corner. I almost forgot you were here.” Blaine knows that is not entirely true because he caught Kurt peeking at him from time to time, and Blaine knows it’s because Kurt is insatiable for the visual of what they create together. He has told Blaine on many occasions that just sometimes just looking at him makes him weak in the knees. Also, Blaine takes solace in knowing Kurt often checks to make sure he hasn’t dropped the ball as a manner of safe-wording. 

“But it’s time to help now, pet. The cookies are cooling so that we can decorate them tomorrow, but you and I are not finished,” Kurt says as he leans in once more to suckle at Blaine’s nipples, refreshing the ache. This time, Kurt uses his hands to caress Blaine’s flank down to his hips. He reaches around and finds the handle of the juicer and jostles it a little before rocking it in a twisting motion, but never fully turning it. Blaine whines desperately and lets his forehead fall onto Kurt’s shoulder, his nose drawing in breath loudly. “That feels good doesn’t it, beautiful?” 

Blaine moans and rocks his hips, letting Kurt know that he wants more. Kurt gives him more, jostling, rocking, and twisting the juicer until Blaine is shaking with need and his cock is jutting out straight and pressing into Kurt’s hip. “What a good boy you are, a wonderful, darling, horny boy.” 

Kurt releases the juicer, but doesn’t remove it. He sets Blaine straight again and grabs the pastry wheel. It’s made entirely of wood and is not a cutter, but a crimper. Blaine is familiar with this type because Kurt has had him crimp closed pies and pasta with a similar one. Even though Blaine knows it doesn’t cut, his stomach tightens in anticipation. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. This is the non-cutting kind and I’ll be as careful as I always am. You drop your ball if it gets to be too much.” 

Blaine nods then moans when he sees that Kurt has fallen to kneel in front of him. “It’s time I give this gorgeously flushed cock of yours some attention, don’t you think?” 

Blaine doesn’t respond. He just closes his eyes and wills his cock to be still. His ass clenches around the juicer and his toes flex uncontrollably. “You’re ok, my love,” Kurt encourages, dragging his fingertips along his bruised thighs to distract him. When Blaine is whimpering from the sensation of having his bruises caressed, Kurt very lightly traces the wheel along the bulging vein on Blaine’s cock. His cock twitches and bounces from the impression the wheel leaves, and soon Blaine’s whimperings turn to full out whines. 

“Yes, yes, baby. Your cock loves this. It’s throbbing for the wheel, isn’t it?” Kurt trails the wheel along the vein again then drags it in a zig-zag pattern along the shaft, starting from the base and stopping just before the ridge of the swollen mushroom head. Blaine trembles and moans constantly. The tea towel is so sopping wet with saliva that it drips down his chin. 

Kurt is relentless with the wheel. He sticks to the veiny shaft, experimenting with the pressure. Sometimes it drags very gently, but other times Kurt presses harder, making temporary indentations in Blaine’s sensitive flesh. “Fuck, your cock looks so hot like this,” Kurt moans. “I want it in my mouth, pet.” 

Blaine pushes his hips forward at Kurt’s admittance only for Kurt to grasps his hips hard and guide him back. “Nuh uh,” Kurt reprimands. “I’ll blow you on my terms.” 

Kurt moves the wheel around Blaine’s cock, making sure to get the sensitive underside. Once every inch of his shaft has been stimulated, Kurt drags the wheel down over the ridge onto the tip, the wheel dipping briefly into Blaine’s seeping, wet hole. 

Blaine whimpers uncontrollably and babbles through the towel, but Kurt pays no mind. He concentrates solely on rolling the wheel repeatedly through the middle of Blaine’s head, collecting sticky precome with each pass. Only when the wheel is gooey and leaving milky trails in its wake does Kurt press it just under the ridge of Blaine’s head. He just holds it there for a moment, unmoving, and places his hand to Blaine’s bruised abs - a gesture meant to calm Blaine a little. 

Once Blaine is still again (aside from his trembling muscles) and his mouth is relatively quiet, only emitting soft whines, Kurt moves the wheel and traces the lip of the cock’s ridge all the way around, again and again. 

Blaine’s little whines turn into full blow grunts. Kurt stands quickly and presses his forehead to Blaine’s trying to ground him. “No coming,” he instructs. “I’m not done with you yet.” He tugs the ties of the towel, releasing Blaine’s gag and once again sinks to the floor. When he takes Blaine into his mouth, Blaine cries. 

“Ohhhhhhhh fuck. Please.” 

Kurt sucks hard on Blaine’s cock, like a man starved. His tongue laps along, tracing the same paths as the wheel had, soothing the prickly indentations which adorn Blaine’s skin. Kurt switches from taking Blaine deeply into his throat to fisting him at the base so that he can work the tip with a light dragging of his teeth and the soft, plump suckling of his lips. Kurt plays, Kurt sucks, and Kurt doesn’t stop until Blaine is debauched, reciting his pleas like a prayer. 

“I need to come, please, fuck, Master, oh, god, yes, pleasepleaseplease…” 

Kurt stops and stands. He aggressively presses his mouth to Blaine’s, effectively shutting him up. When he decides that Blaine needs air, Kurt breaks the kiss and murmurs against his throat. “You are beautiful. I love you so much.” 

“Please, Kurt…” 

“No, baby, no coming. I have one more utensil I haven’t used yet.” 

Blaine whines. 

“Let me put the cookies into containers, and I’ll be right back.” Kurt teases. 

While Kurt washes his hands then takes care of the cookies, delicately stacking them into sealable glass containers, Blaine uses the time to try to calm down. His cock is raging and so close to coming. He wills it to settle down because there is no way he will come without Kurt’s permission. It’s just not something he’s in the habit of doing. 

Blaine is glad that he’s no longer gagged. He moves his jaw, opening and closing, trying to work out the ache. His arms and legs are trembling from exhaustion, his nipples still ache, and his thighs and stomach are sore, but his most pressing need right now is buried in his ass. He has had it in for a few hours now, and the good ache is turning into a painful one. He waits until Kurt returns then asks, “Please Sir, may I have the juicer out?” 

“Does it hurt, pet?” 

“It’s starting to.” 

“Of course.” 

Kurt digs in the drawer for some latex gloves and slips them on. He retrieves a plastic bag then moves behind Blaine to remove the juicer. “You held it for so long, pet. I’m proud of you,” he says as he bends Blaine forward at the waist. Blaine, never releasing his hold on his wrist, moves how Kurt maneuvers him - nothing more, nothing less. Kurt tugs on the juicer gently but swiftly until it’s out. He puts it into the plastic bag along with his discarded gloves and leaves it on the floor for clean up later. 

“God, this ass, Blaine, it’s my kryptonite. It’s so gorgeous with the fading bruises and your asshole wide and gaping.” After Kurt takes a few moments to admire and squeeze Blaine’s bottom, he moves to Blaine’s front again and helps him stand up straight. He leans in to kiss his mouth, his fingers massaging the junctures of his jaw bones. “Feel better?” 

“Yes, thank you, Sir,” Blaine says despite his still aching body and stiff needy cock. 

“Good,” Kurt hums, because next is the wire whisk. 

Blaine gasps as his eyes go wide. He doesn’t think his cock can take any more. He’s still so close to coming. “Please…” 

“What do you need?” 

“To… I… God, my balls are so heavy, Sir. My cock aches. I need release, please.” 

“Oh my dear, sweet boy, I’m not finished with you - or your balls,” Kurt snickers. “If you think they’re heavy now, just wait.” 

Kurt takes the whisk, which is made from thin stainless steel wire, and presses it firmly to Blaine’s hanging balls from beneath. Blaine’s eyes widen and then shut closed tightly, as he prepares himself for the onslaught to his testicles. “Oh fuck, oh please,” he begs. 

“Stay still,” Kurt commands and twists the whisk in his hand, making the horizontal wires gently paddle and flick along the skin and flesh of Blaine’s testicles. 

“Oh my fuck, oh god, oh god…” 

“This is so hot, Blaine - your bouncing balls, and your cock is so hard, baby.” 

Kurt applies pressure so that Blaine’s skin slips between the wires as he twists. He does it gentle enough that it won’t cause damage, but the pressure is more than enough to make Blaine’s balls throb and his mouth cry out. Blaine can no longer form words, he’s just grunting and whining now, somehow begging for mercy. 

Kurt doesn’t give it to him. Instead, Kurt changes angles so that the very tip of the whisk is pressing at Blaine’s balls from below. He moves his wrist in a whisking motion, just as he would if he were whisking the dry ingredients for cookies. Blaine’s testicles bounce and roll along the wires and when Blaine’s almost had enough, Kurt gives his wrist one extra flick, and then stops. 

Blaine is leaning forward, no longer completely straight, but his hands are still faithfully behind his neck. His entire body is shaking, his toes are gripping the tile hard, and his mouth is spewing out harsh pants. His face is wet with tears and sweat, and his cock is impossibly hard and sticking straight out while the tip leaks like a faucet onto the floor beneath him. 

Kurt thinks it’s a beautiful sight. 

He puts the whisk down beside the other utensils and bends to detach the spreader bar. He stands and gently moves Blaine’s arms down to hang at his side and then takes him into his arms, holding and hugging, and encouraging him. “You are a remarkable submissive; you are _my_ submissive, and I am so proud of you.” 

Blaine whimpers against Kurt’s neck. Kurt guides him into the bathroom and sets him down on the bathtub’s ledge. He draws the hot water and drops in some lavender bubble bath, then sits beside his husband and caresses his cheek, adoringly. While the tub fills, Kurt inspects Blaine’s welts and markings (paying particular attention to his balls), and Blaine drinks a juice box. 

When Kurt is satisfied that Blaine’s body will heal nicely, he kisses Blaine’s (still) stiff cock and says, “I know you’re needy, sweetheart, so I’m going to give you a choice.” 

Kurt helps Blaine into the tub. When Blaine feels the warmth surround him and smells the lavender, he moans audibly. He inhales deeply as the water is already working its magic to relax him. When he opens his eyes, Kurt is smiling down at him. Kurt leans down to kiss him and nibbles a little at his lips. “If you want to come, you may. You have the warm water, the suds, and your strong hand. I’ll happily watch you masturbate,” Kurt says with a tilt of his head. “Or, you can stay needy, stay wanting, and we’ll do this all over again tomorrow. Your denial will only add to the festivities, baby. You pick.” 

“You want my _assistance_ with icing the cookies tomorrow, Sir?” 

“Yes, but there is still so much baking to do; I’ll need your _help_ , pet. I have yet to make buns, pies, and a cake. I think I might try out those orange, shortbread cookies, too. Oh… and there’s that recipe I found for cranberry almond loaf…” 

Blaine’s decision is easy. As much as he yearns to explode right now, he would rather save himself. Kurt has so much baking left; what kind of submissive would he be if he didn’t help him with it? Blaine closes his eyes and sinks lower into the tub, listening to Kurt’s melodic voice list off all the baking he wants to do. His cock aches and throbs under the suds; but Blaine doesn’t touch himself, not when there is so much to look forward to tomorrow.

 


	24. Santa

 

“Kurt?” 

“Hmm?” 

“You still have this?” 

Kurt stops pairing socks and looks at Blaine, who is sprawled on the floor of their bedroom clearing out the bottom dresser drawer to make room for Bean’s things. A smile spreads across Kurt’s face when he sees the item Blaine is holding. “Of course I do.” 

Blaine sits up and laughs, “But why?” 

“Do I need a reason to keep memorabilia of my sexy Santa? You are not getting rid of that! Gimme,” Kurt demands, making grabby hands. 

“Oh my God, Kurt, this is embarrassing. I still can’t believe Tina talked us all into it.” 

“She probably just wanted to see you shirtless… again.” Kurt teases. 

“Kuuurt…” 

“I can’t blame her actually,” Kurt muses. “That’s why I kept it. As cheesy as it is, your body looks gorgeous.” Kurt stares down at the calendar – one month in particular, Mr. December Blaine AnderSanta. While he gazes at it, his eyes darken and Blaine sees the exact moment Kurt gets the idea in his mind. 

“Kurt... No.” 

Kurt smiles broadly and tugs Blaine up by the hand, “Oh come on, please, sweetheart? I want to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what I want for Christmas.” 

“I refuse.” Blaine pouts. 

“I know you still have those red pants. I saw them when I was re-organizing our closets the other day. And I have the Santa hat that I wore to Lauren’s holiday party.” 

“Nope, not happening. I love roleplaying with you, Kurt, but no. I will not fetishize the image of Santa Clause… again.” Blaine busies himself with putting Bean’s toys into the drawer so that he doesn’t have to look at those owlish Hummel eyes; they draw him in every damn time. 

“Okay, that’s fine if you don’t want to play,” Kurt sulks. 

Blaine turns to looks at him and… damn it! Why did he look into his eyes? He sighs, “Fine. Ok. But I’m not wearing the hat.”

 

+

 

Ten minutes later Blaine is sitting in the high-backed armchair wearing the red fuzzy pants and the Santa hat (and nothing else). Kurt is sitting side-saddle on his lap with an arm around his shoulders and the most sinful grin on his lips. He is, of course, fully clothed, but the pants he’s wearing are so tight that they leave nothing to the imagination, and his crisp, white shirt is fitted perfectly to show off his defined chest and strong arms. 

“Ooh Santa, is that a candy cane in your pocket or are you happy to see me?” Kurt teases with the vampiest of smiles on his face. 

Blaine rolls his eyes and groans, but it’s only for show. Secretly, he loves having Kurt in his lap. His weight feels grounding, as always, and Kurt smells of vanilla and chai. He is indeed very happy to see him. “I’m always happy to see you, honey.” 

Kurt leans in to nibble at Blaine’s lip. Blaine coos and holds his gaze; Kurt’s proximity makes his skin prickle with heat and his heart pump harder in his chest. Kurt has him in the palm of his hand, and Blaine knows it. There is nowhere else he’d rather be. He asks tenderly, “What would you like for Christmas, Kurt?” 

“Oh, nothing actually, I have everything I could ever want right here,” he says and bops Blaine’s nose very gently, then shifts and draws his other arm around Blaine’s shoulders. 

“Aww, Kuuurt…” 

“It’s true,” Kurt is quick to say. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

Blaine can’t hold back any longer. He lunges forward to capture Kurt’s lips, tugging and coaxing Kurt deeper into the kiss. Blaine’s fingers roam along Kurt’s shoulder blade and down to the small of his back. His other hand holds Kurt’s face gently as he guides the kiss deeper. His tongue slides in greedily and, soon enough, they are both cooing and moaning through it. 

“I love you,” Kurt murmurs as he shifts his body again to straddle Blaine’s lap. Blaine slides his hands along Kurt’s hips to his ass and tugs, effectively drawing Kurt’s crotch flush against his abs. “You’re so sexy,” Kurt adds. “And I don’t just mean as Santa. Always. You’re…” Kurt growls and falls into Blaine’s kiss again. This time he rocks his hips until the tip of Blaine’s cock slides along the dip between his cheeks. 

“I love you too,” Blaine moans, “So much.” 

They make out heatedly until Kurt’s shirt has been stripped off of him and they’re rocking and grinding against each other. After a while, Blaine pauses. “Are you sure you don’t want anything for Christmas, honey?” he asks with a waggle of his brows. 

Kurt inhales and leans back a bit. Suddenly, his eyes are large and crystal clear. Blaine can see the serious emotion in them, and for a split second he becomes alarmed. “Kur…” 

“I do want something,” Kurt admits abruptly. 

Blaine slides his hand up to rest over Kurt’s bare heart. “I’ll give you anything, you know that.” 

“But I only want this if you want it, too. And I mean it, Blaine; I don’t want you to say yes just to appease me.” 

Kurt’s serious tone tells Blaine that this is going beyond just kinky roleplay. Kurt wants something, and Blaine doesn’t think it has anything to do with sex. “Honey, what is it?” 

Kurt leans in to whisper into Blaine’s ear. When Blaine fully processes what Kurt has said, his eyes widen. He presses Kurt back so that he can get a good look at him; the expression in Kurt’s eyes reveals that he is dead serious. 

Blaine squeaks and smiles, “Okay. Yes. Oh my God, yes!”

 

+

 

Blaine lies in bed trying to clear his head of the post-orgasmic fuzziness. He’s on his back, with one arm around Kurt, who has his head cradled to Blaine’s chest. They’re both sticky and sweaty, and still panting soft breath. Blaine tilts his head to the side and sees the red pants and hat lying haphazardly on the floor beside Kurt’s pants and underwear. He shakes his head in disbelief of what his husband has asked of him. 

“I was going to ask you, you know,” Blaine says softly. 

“Ask me what?” Kurt asks drowsily, not able to lift his head from Blaine’s chest. 

Blaine slides his thumb along Kurt’s shoulder, massaging the muscle, lazily. “For your collar.” 

Kurt lifts up to his elbow and hovers over Blaine. “You were?” 

“Yup,” Blaine confirms. “That’s what my New Year’s Eve plans were all about. I was going to ask if you wanted to make our bond official – to renew our vows and have a collaring ceremony.” 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” 

“For what?” 

“For ruining your New Year’s Eve plans.” 

“Oh, no, you haven’t ruined anything. Honey, you have made me the happiest of submissives, the luckiest man alive. There is nothing I want more than to wear your collar. And the way in which you asked me, so affectionately and by complete surprise was absolutely perfect. I mean, I think I proved to you how much your proposal touched me just now, didn’t I?” 

Kurt grins, “Oh you have absolutely proven yourself, my sweet pet. That blowjob was otherworldly.” 

“Uh huh,” Blaine agrees. “And now that the question is out of the way, we can use our time together at New Year’s to plan the ceremony, and to enjoy our promised status.” Blaine winks. 

“You insatiable minx.” 

Blaine laughs. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.” 

Kurt gazes directly into Blaine’s eyes. “Yes I would. You are so much more than just your physical sexual self… as gorgeous as that is.” 

Blaine grasps Kurt’s face gently and tugs it down, kissing his lips. “I can’t wait to be your collared submissive. I want it now.” 

“Well, you’re going to have to wait because I’ve only just started on the renderings. Perfection takes time, pet.” 

“You… you’re… oh, Kurt, you’re designing it?” 

“Of course I am, pet. It’s such a personal thing for us. Only we know what we mean to each other and what the collar represents, and how it should look. I have designed and handmade many things - before and after I received my fashion degree - but none more important than this, Blaine. It will be my _pièce de résistance_.” 

Blaine doesn’t even bother wiping away his tears. “You’re perfect.” 

Kurt blushes and shakes his head. “Work in progress, remember?” 

“Yes, and me too, but you’re still perfect _for me_.” 

“And you are for me, sweetheart - with or without red, fluffy Santa pants.” 

Blaine squeals laughter and slaps Kurt’s ass, which leads to more kissing, which leads to more grinding, and which eventually leads to rounds two and three. Much later, they fall asleep in each other’s arms to thoughts of Domination, submission, collars, and profound love.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have [bowtiesandboatshoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowtiesandboatshoes) to thank for this chapter. I was so tempted to leave it as a cliffhanger and not reveal what Kurt asked Blaine. She convinced me not to. ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed it, let me know :)
> 
> I've planned three or four more installments for this verse. Of course, that number isn't set in stone. Knowing me, there will be a few more.


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